


Jonathan Frakes Has Questions And So Does Sam

by chase_acow



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Developing Relationship, Found Family, Haunted House, M/M, Post Spider-Man Far From Home, avengers as a big weird family, brief overt racism, flawed characters making better choices, mentions of announced bad guy, peter parker/mj - Freeform, post falcon and the winter soldier, slightly haunted curtain fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 08:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20832569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: Sam has questions. Peter has memes. Bucky has a secret.Strange is an unscrupulous real estate wizard.Where do you hide a teenage superhero fugitive? The only answer Sam can find is the hidden and slightly haunted house Strange offers. They have room to breathe but after everything, Sam knows he wants Bucky in his life, he knows he needs to help Peter figure things out, but he's not sure if he's ready to put down roots again. Also, why is there a man in a giant Rhino suit tearing up downtown?





	Jonathan Frakes Has Questions And So Does Sam

**Author's Note:**

> ahahahahahahaha. omg i'm done. I never intended for this to be so long, and I definitely blew right through my deadline. My partner for this [Sam Wilson Birthday Bang](https://samwilsonbirthdaybang.tumblr.com/) event, esaael ([here](https://esaael.tumblr.com/) on tumblr) ([here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/esaael/profile) on a03 was fantastic, please check out the art at the end notes! Heap them with praise! Watercolor is amazing . . . and also hard! Thank you so much for chatting with me and doing great scenes!
> 
> Please feel free to point out any mistakes -> my brain is dead.

"Don't put any more of that jalapeno powder on the popcorn!" Bucky yelled, sitting on his ass in the living room while Sam worked away in front of a microwave.

"Sorry, we're all out of plain boiled potato seasoning," Sam answered, yelling over the too loud beeping that proclaimed the popcorn finished. He hissed as he pulled the bag open and aimed the steam away from his face. He'd already set two bowls out, knowing Bucky liked plain butter, and divided the snack evenly before shaking out a hefty portion of spice on his own bowl. "You better not be hogging the M&Ms!"

Having the peace to sit on the couch and catch up with a movie or two still hadn't completely settled in as real. Sam was still twitching over the need to be up and moving, doing something before the shitty parts of life caught up with them again. They'd made the mistake of TV first, but when half the cast of _Game of Thrones_ had been snapped away, the series finale was bound to be disappointing. Zemo was still in his rearview mirror, but getting further away with every day, even if they were still dealing with some of the fallout.

Sam also wanted to find out where this thing with Bucky would lead. Neither of them had mentioned the kiss stolen moments before they thought they were both going to die. They made it out by the skin of their teeth, and it hadn't seemed like the right time to discuss it under the red and blue flashing lights. There was only so long they could dance around it; Sam was going to make his move and either it would be awkward, or they'd finally release the tension threatening to explode between them.

Balancing the popcorn, his beer and because Bucky would always be an old man, a ginger ale, Sam went back to the living room. He had the choice of his favorite recliner, cushion molded to the exact measurements of his rather shapely butt, or the middle cushion of a couch that still smelled like new mall showroom. In his chair, comfortable as it was, he wouldn't be within arm's reach of Bucky. He angled to the couch and set his goodies down on the coffee table making his intentions clear.

"It's _John Wick 4_ tonight, isn't it?" Sam asked, hitting the button on the remote before he set it back so he could glance out of the corner of his eye to see Bucky's reaction. 

Bucky had a soft smile, his arm stretched out across the back of the couch. He didn't make to move as Sam backed up to sit, and Sam's belly flip flopped, knowing they were about to cross a line. He'd sit back, and Bucky would stay still until he couldn't help it, slipping his arm down so his thumb could rub over Sam's shoulder. They'd try to watch the movie, wouldn't notice much after Keanu's first gun-fu fight, and then they'd kiss again, lips shiny with butter, with chocolate on their tongues. Sam would turn, fit his body over Bucky's, slotting their thighs together as they grinded against each other.

The knock on the door startled him before he could sit. Sam clenched his eyes shut, squishing his face for a moment before he took a deep breath and straightened. He'd like to ignore it, but few enough people knew about this apartment, he couldn't take the chance.

That didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

It took him a few moments to jerk the locks before the door opened, and he was glad he didn't have super strength because the knob would not have survived the tightening of his grip. Of all the headaches to show up at the worst time, this was the last one he'd expected. The hood was pulled down, backpack clutched tightly over one shoulder, but there was only one person it could have been.

"I- uh, don't have anywhere else to go?"

"Get your ass in here," Sam said, pulling the teenager in by his hoodie. He checked the stairway, listening carefully before he followed into the apartment, engaging all the locks this time. So much for his peace and quiet. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson, I know I shouldn't have come, but-"

Sam rubbed his forehead, feeling the headache rushing in. "Of course you should have come, Peter," he said, walking over to grab the kid in a tight hug. Peter clung to him and it broke his heart a little bit more than seeing the first news reports of Spider-Man's supposed massacre. They'd all had it rough since the final battle with Thanos, but Peter was still so young, and he took things harder. "Where've you been?"

"Hiding mostly," Peter said, stepping back and swiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "I can't go home, it was already swarming with cops and Happy was in handcuffs, and I don't know what's going to happen to May."

"But you're okay?" Sam pressed, leaning down to get a better look. Peter had darker shadows under his eyes, might have been skinnier than the last time Sam had seen him, but otherwise seemed unharmed.

"Yeah, I'm fine, but what about-"

Shaking his head, Sam ushered Peter into the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the counter for him. There was some left-over shrimp lo mein in the fridge somewhere, and Sam turned to find it. "Don't worry about them, you know if Happy can't handle it SI has a dozen lawyers that would have busted them out in no time," he said, pushing Bucky's hard boiled eggs to the side to reach the take-out container. "We need to worry about you."

He hadn't for a moment bought into the lies spewed by that asshole on the Daily Bugle. Whatever had gone down in London, there was no way Peter had killed those people. Whoever Quentin Beck was, he'd fucked Peter over real good, and he was lucky he was already dead. Sam pulled the food out of the microwave and plopped it in front of Peter with a set of chopsticks. 

"I know, I just-" Peter shoveled noodles into his mouth like a starving man, but also kept talking making sure a liberal amount of half chewed food ended up back on the counter. "This isn't fair! I didn't do what they said I did! Happy and May didn't _do_ anything! This is what I was always afraid of! I'll never have a normal life now!"

"Just breathe, kiddo," Bucky said, finally coming into the kitchen after finishing his perimeter check. He patted Peter on the back hard enough to knock him off the seat and to his feet. "Even this isn't the end of the world. You've still got us."

"Thanks, Mr. Barnes," Peter said, doing that teenager thing where he tried to smile and failed miserably. "I know, it's just-"

Sam's phone vibrated from the catch-all bowl where he'd left it. He exchanged a worried glance with Bucky, both of them recognizing the ring tone. Grabbing it, he swiped to answer, "Misty. What's going on?"

"The feds are on their way," she said, voice hushed like she couldn't be overheard. "You need to make sure you've got your spiders in a row."

Even if she had decided to move out on her own, Misty Knight still had her finger on the pulse of the local police. She hung up before he could ask any questions, but that was par the course for their still new friendship. They'd saved each other's bacon, but that didn't mean the trust had been built. Sam rolled his shoulders trying to release some of the building pressure. "You hear that?" he asked Bucky.

"Yeah, panic room?" Bucky asked, glancing at Peter.

"Panic room," Sam agreed, moving quickly to scoop up Peter's backpack while Bucky herded Peter along with them down the hallway.

"You guys have a panic room? Cool," Peter added following Sam into the bathroom.

Bucky squeezed in with them, the room in no way meant to hold two and a half fully grown men. "More like a panic small space to stand and hide," he said, holding his arms out for Sam to pile towels up in them.

The cubby space was the first thing Bucky had done when they'd moved in, converting the closet into a hiding spot with bare shelving on the outside to divert suspicion. Sam easily admitted it was quality craftsmanship, nearly impossible to see and completely impossible to open when it was locked from the inside. He'd become more conditioned to running than hiding, but Bucky liked the security of having a choice.

"I hope you're not claustrophobic," Sam said, finally finding the switch normally hidden by the towels to let the shelving unit swing out.

"Well actually, I-"

"Great, don't make any noise, here's the button to get out, don't push it until we give you the sign," Sam said, grabbing Peter by the arms and backing him into the space. He picked up the backpack and shoved it into Peter's chest. "Four knocks, one knock, three knocks, one knock."

"Okay, but-"

Bucky smiled, reaching in to squeeze Peter's shoulder. "It's going to be okay, trust us," he said, sliding the door shut on Peter's less than reassured expression. He put the towels neatly in their place but scowled when Sam reached to muss them up again not wanting to be suspiciously neat. 

"The light is going to turn on for him, right?" Sam asked, heading back to the kitchen to throw away the mostly eaten food. 

"Most likely. It was about seventy-thirty the last time I tested it," Bucky answered, going to the living room to skip the movie ahead. "I hate spoilers."

"Uh-huh, I'm not too fond of the feds these days," Sam said, taking his cold popcorn with him to the recliner, mood completely ruined. Operation Sit in Bucky's Lap was going to have to move to the back burner. "Let's watch Keanu kick some ass. Maybe you can take some notes."

"Please," Bucky said, grinning through a mouthful of peanut M&Ms, "they based John Wick off my moves."

They bantered for the next ten minutes, pausing occasionally to watch as the assassin racked up an insane body count. The likelihood that the feds would listen in before they attempted contact kept them from talking about anything real. Sam couldn't help tapping his fingers against his thigh, rubbing the tips across the rough material as he waited. He hated the waiting, give him a straight forward mission any day, and let Bucky handle the sniper patience for both of them.

When the knock came, obnoxiously spaced and professional, it was all Sam could do to take that extra second to sit in his chair and finish beer. Nodding at Bucky, he got up and answered the door, plastering on a smile as fake as Peter's. "Why hello, Special Agent Daniel Eastman. What brings you to my door so late and uninvited?" he asked, showing his teeth as he took in the six other agents lining the hallway.

"Just serving a warrant, looking for our friendly, neighborhood fugitive," Eastman said, slapping a folded piece of paper against Sam's chest and then gesturing for the others to enter the apartment. They pushed past Sam, forcing him to retreat from the hallway. "You haven't seen anyone wearing a red and blue spandex onesie, have you? Peter Parker, maybe?"

"Haven't seen him since last month's meeting of adrenaline junkies anonymous," Sam said, glancing over the warrant and finding it irritatingly legal. "Just take it easy on the furniture, we replaced it after the last time we kicked the ass of uninvited guests."

It wasn’t like they had much in the way of belongings, but what they did have he didn’t want messed up. With half the population suddenly back, there were odd supply and demand issues, and Sam wasn’t about to try to outfit another kitchen if they messed up his pans. Eastman would too, if he thought he could get away with it. 

Eastman smiled, odious with all the sincerity of a politician planning his next big campaign speech. "You won't even know we were here," he said, not moving a muscle as a crash sounded over Sam's shoulder.

"Barnes, you okay?" Sam asked, continuing the staring contest with Eastman. This was the asshole who nearly cost them Zemo, and somehow weaseled a promotion out of it. All the alphabet soup agencies were on Sam's shit list, but this guy was first, and it just figured he’d kept Sam on his radar.

"Yeah," Bucky said, his voice tight, "but the bookshelf isn't going to make it."

That voice was the only thing that would have pulled Sam away, but he went without a second thought, joining Bucky by the television while they watched the agents tear their stuff apart. Sam crossed his arms, jaw twitching with all the things he wanted to say but had to bite down on. They just needed to play along and get these assholes out so Bucky would feel safe and Peter would actually be safe.

"It's a little unusual, isn't it?" Eastman asked, poking around the kitchen. "You had your movie snacks and then you decided to heat up some leftovers?"

"He's got a super soldier’s metabolism," Sam said, shrugging as he watched them tip over his recliner. "He's gonna eat me out of house and home. Why don't you check under the couch cushions too, maybe you'll find some spare change? You could buy some manners."

Then they got into his gear cabinet, new uniform crumpled on the floor, Redwing kicked to the side, but when that mouth breather picked up the shield and tossed it aside like a piece of trash, Sam couldn't hold back, "Hey man, how about some professionalism, huh?"

"Why?" the mouth breather sneered, his crisp white collar digging into the red of his neck. "Because you're Captain America? Not my Captain America."

Sam took a step forward before Bucky's hand on his waist stopped him. There was more going on than just some asshole being racist. Peter was depending on them. Biting his tongue, they watched as Eastman and his goons trashed everything they could and then stormed out empty handed twenty minutes later. They gave it another ten minutes just to be sure while they picked up before Sam went and tapped the code on the shelf. Peter shot out the second the gap was wide enough.

"Please don't make me go back in there," Peter squeaked, still clutching his backpack as he pleaded with them from his position crouching on the ceiling. 

#

"Yeah, Pepper, I understand," Sam said, withholding his sigh. Pepper was dealing with more than enough on her own plate, he'd have to find another way to provide Peter a place to hide. His apartment was an extremely short term solution. Bucky had been sleeping on the couch for the last three nights, but he was getting grumpier and the one bathroom was not enough for all three of them.

"I'd do something if I could Sam, but since we sued to get the War Machine suit back and Rhodey retired they've been watching us a lot closer," Pepper said, not hiding her sigh. He could hear paper shuffling over the phone line. "This business in London has made things worse. I know there's no way Peter killed those people, but EDITH's involvement is making things very complicated. I love Tony, but I could have murdered him for pulling a stunt like this. It's like he was allergic to instructions."

Sam smiled, for all the he and Tony had butted heads and done it a lot, there wasn't anyone else more fun to fly with. "He was the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kinda guy," Sam said, wishing again there had been any other way to end Thanos. "How’s Rhodey?"

"He took Morgan out to fly kites, last I heard she was explaining how lift and drag worked together to keep it airborne," Pepper answered, her voice took on a wistfulness. "She's going to be a flyer too."

"I can't wait to see it," Sam said, hoping he wasn't crossing any lines. "Tell them we all said hi, and I'll give you another call when we figure things out."

"Bye, Sam," Pepper said, ending their call.

Sam groaned, tossing the phone on the counter as he bent over with his face in his hands. He'd managed to get word to May through one of his old VA contacts that went to work with her housing initiative so at least she knew Peter was safe. Otherwise the kid was on lock down and nearly to the point of driving them crazy with his excess of energy.

They'd picked this apartment for the ease of access through the roof, but it also made it hard for Spider-man to come and go due to the heavy surveillance he and Bucky spotted, and Peter was chafing at the inaction. Sam would move them in a heartbeat if he could figure a safe spot. Sure the apartment was nice, but he'd been in plenty of places since he teamed up with Steve, both better and worse. Nothing was permanent. He just couldn’t find anything better now.

Every day another smear story appeared, not on any of the major networks, but there were enough YouTube channels and Reddit subchannels that they couldn't get them all shut down. They were the same extremist assholes that had drug Sam through the mud when he'd first taken up the shield. Some asshole kid at Peter's school was leading one of the charges, and even Ned and some other mouthy but mostly well-meaning kid named Flash couldn't break through the shit embargo.

He wanted something to punch, especially when Peter shoulders slumped a little more with each outrageous lie.

Bucky made enough noise moving through the kitchen that Sam didn't flinch when his big hands came down on Sam's shoulders. He groaned as Bucky squeezed, one hand warm and one cool, as he rubbed some of the tension away. He shifted a little, his hip bumped into Bucky's as he went down on his elbows, arching his back and groaning in pleasure as Bucky moved from massage to gentle scratching.

"You can stop that exactly never," Sam said, twisting so Bucky would concentrate on the areas under his arms where his wings rubbed him. Didn't matter how long it had been since he'd suited up, he could always feel phantom pressure from the straps. He loved flying, but it wasn't always the most comfortable thing.

"What are you going to give me?" Bucky rumbled, curling his hands around Sam's ribs to pull him closer. They weren't quite at the club level of grinding, but give it another inch or two and Sam's butt would be real close to paradise. 

"Anything," Sam groaned, willing in that moment to agree to anything Bucky would ask him if they could break this standoff. Anything to distract him from the impossible task in front of him. How was he supposed to keep them all safe? Easier to forget it for a moment while he chased a different kind of pleasure. "Ask me for anything and it's yours."

"Hey guys - oh my god, right in front of my salad!" Peter shouted, first sliding into the kitchen on his socks and then twisting away while covering his eyes. 

"A, there is no salad, and B, rule number one of the kitchen is that everyone keeps their pants on," Sam said, internally counting to ten and regretting every run he'd ever taken around the reflecting pool that had led him to this spot. He straightened up, letting his oversized hoodie hide most of the evidence of what they had been about to get up to while Bucky shuffled to hide behind him. "Our pants are on, now what did you want?"

"You never get my jokes," Peter muttered, and then continued, putting too much emphasis on the letter to be anything but a mockery, "_A_, it's still gross, you're both super old, and B, I've figured out what we need to do." 

Sam didn’t buy it for a hot minute, Peter got that cagey look when he was skirting around the truth. No one wanted to see other people swapping spit, but Peter seemed to know exactly when Bucky would give Sam the look. The look that said they could steal fifteen minutes in Sam’s bedroom if they tried hard enough. Then inevitably Peter would ask to look at Redwing’s tech or bring up a movie to watch with Bucky and they’d be back to avoiding each other because that was easier than acknowledging the need burning through Sam’s veins that he touch, and taste, and take. 

"Lay it on me, Spider-Man," Sam said, he'd already struck out maybe the kid would have an idea they could use. The headache was back and Sam just wanted a nap. With or without Bucky to curl around. "What ya got?"

Peter turned around, grinning wide again for the first time in days.

#

"This is a terrible idea," Sam said, flat as he could while he stared up at the innocuous building. It didn't even have a grand staircase leading up to the front door. He wouldn't have believed it was anything special if they hadn't all gathered here for a wake before they'd scattered across the galaxy. He'd gone through all his contacts and everyone Barton still trusted from SHIELD, but no one else could help them.

"We could still take Scott up on his offer to make us little and live in his legoland," Bucky said, pausing beside Sam on the sidewalk. He was still wearing his skinny jeans even though he complained about them constantly. Sam did not complain about the view. "But I'm pretty sure that doesn't solve our bathroom problems."

Sam huffed and took the stairs, knowing Bucky was close behind him. He raised his hand to knock and hit air when they were instantly transported into the entryway. This time he sighed heavily and waited for the wizard to show up, unwilling to play a part in the theatrics. He got along okay with Strange, but he doubted they'd ever be drinking buddies.

"You come to ask me for a safe haven."

"What? You psychic now?" Sam asked, turning slowly around to face the door where Strange has decided to appear. He hadn't jumped, but it was a near thing, and he could see Bucky tracing his fingers over one of his least hidden knives. He didn't like the idea of telepathy, he was just as happy that Wanda was off somewhere else these days.

"No, Peter called me this morning," Strange said, briskly brushing past them to disappear down the right hand hallway. His cape briefly tugged on Sam’s wrist. "Do keep up, I think I have something that might be of service to you."

Bucky shrugged and passed Sam to follow Strange into the looming darkness that resolved itself into a sitting room. He took point, getting close to peer over Strange's shoulder at the desk covered in arcane instruments, and for some reason a Bob Ross chia pet. "What is it you're suggesting?" he asked, reaching around to poke something only to let his hand be slapped away.

"I'm suggesting that you take care of one of my problems and I'll take care of yours," Strange said, doing his mime show to open a portal to an indiscriminate brownstone. "This is known as the House of Death. In 1937, there were plans to convert it into apartments, but the sorcerers here at the time stepped in to make the house disappear first."

Sam and Bucky exchanged a glance. "You want us to live in a house named Death?" Sam asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hard pass."

"I assure you, there is nothing inherently dangerous about it. I would call it slightly haunted, but it has enough sentience to prove a problem should the general public have access to it," Strange said, a flick of his hand causing three keys to dangle up in the air and float toward Sam. "The sorcerers here have been tasked with keeping an eye on it, but there are fewer of us than ever and other forces are beginning to take notice of our divided attention."

"So what exactly would we be doing?" Sam asked, trying to wave the keys away like so many flies. He couldn’t believe he was even considering this, but the idea of an entire house, even a ‘slightly’ haunted one, was pretty irresistible. He had full faith they’d be able to put the Spider-Man situation to bed soon enough, so if it was terrible, they could move on soon. "I'm kinda rusty on my ghostbusting techniques."

When the keys started bouncing off his forehead, Sam finally grabbed them in his fist, and then jerked sideways as they were transported again. This time he came to rest in a larger entryway with a staircase spiraling up around the edge of the circular room. The interior wood was a brown so dark it was almost black, and the evenly spaced lanterns containing flickering flame did little to break up the gloom. He shivered and craned his neck back, trying to figure out how many floors.

"There are gargoyles," Sam said, forgetting his intention as he stepped out into the middle of the room and twirled trying to count how many of the ugly little beasties crouched on the walls. "Inside. There are gargoyles inside this house."

"Yes," Strange agreed, floating up to boop one on the nose. "The house has really leaned into the idea of being haunted since it started receiving internet signals. They're not that bad though, sort of like a dog that's so ugly it's cute."

Shaking his head, Sam grabbed Bucky's elbow before he made a move to go exploring on his own. He didn't have Sam's finely honed survive the bullshit instincts. "You know what, thanks, but no thanks," he said, backing up toward what he assumed was the door. "I think we'll go back to Craigslist."

This was an extra complication he did not need. He could just imagine how much work it would take to get the dust out, to put rugs down so his feet didn’t freeze in the morning, though with Peter’s wall crawling, they’d at least be able to get the cobwebs from the corners. A brownstone like this might have a good roof, somewhere he could sit in the sun, but no. Absolutely not. They’d find an industrial space somewhere and invest in chemical toilets. He, Steve, and Nat had managed in one of those for three months.

"Utilities are included in your rent of zero dollars, high speed wireless throughout the house, everyone gets their own bedrooms and bathrooms, and no agents of the enemy will be able to enter to cause you grief."

"We'll take it," Bucky committed them instantly much to Sam's facepalm, then muttered, "I can't inhale any more of that smelly body spray without going crazy. That kid has a problem."

"Good," Strange smiled, and somehow Sam just knew they were getting the raw end of this deal. "With the key in your possession, you'll be able to locate the house from air or from the street. Touch the key to any exterior door and it will transport you back here. No one else will be able to find this place, so do not lose them. Nothing here will permanently harm you, but if you encounter something beyond your abilities, contact me."

"Now wait just a sec-"

"This portal will remain open for the next two hours, anything you can't carry over in that time frame you will have to figure out on your own," Strange said, swirling open another portal before he zoomed off to a fucking wizard's tea party or wherever.

Sam smacked Bucky across the back of his head, messing up the artfully styled man bun that had taken twenty minutes that morning to look like he'd just rolled out of bed. Bucky had slid into twenty-first century hipsterism so easily that it was obvious Steve had either never had a chance or never even tried. "What did you get us into?" he growled, watching as what he had thought was a fake house plant curled its vines toward them.

"Hey guys! Did you talk to Doctor Strange? Cool portal. Are we moving in?" Peter blurted, sticking his head through the portal close enough to the edge that the orange sparks moved his hair like a wind gust. "Hey, look at that plant trying to strangle you!"

The plant was indeed coiling around Sam's neck, vines warm and slightly fuzzy, but they didn't tighten and honestly Sam wasn't about to invite any vengeance upon his supple flesh on day one. He gently unwound the plant and moved the pot closer to the windows at the door, displacing a vase that he sat to the side. The vines twisted upwards, shivering happily in the dim sunlight. So far so good, and apparently they were committed. It’d do as a temporary safe house.

If they were safe from the house, that is.

"All right, you heard the unscrupulous real estate magician," Sam said, squaring his shoulders and stepping through the portal. His stomach flipped like the first fall of a rollercoaster and he was back in their now old apartment. It was a good thing they still had most the boxes from the last move and none of them were burdened with an abundance of possessions. "Get the lead out, and the speakers and my music collection had better end up over there, or you'll wish carnivorous plants were the worst you had to worry about."

#

"Your room came together pretty well," Bucky said, hovering in the doorway to the room Sam had claimed as his. His t-shirt must have been stolen from Steve, it was so worn in. Steve had probably deemed it to big since it barely clung to the curves of Bucky’s chest and didn’t show off his abs at all. There was a hole at the collar and one side dipped down almost showing off his collar bone. 

They'd managed to move everything they needed in the two hours, and Sam had put out the word to the people who needed to know that they wouldn't be found at the old place. He almost wished he could see Eastman's face when he busted in to find it empty. The move had gone well, and Sam was even pleasantly surprised by the kitchen. He’d almost expected a spit for roasting meat, but instead it was sleek and modern. The house must have checked out HGTV while they were packing.

It was also like the house had a place picked out for all of them. Sam's had east facing windows and an in suite bathroom with both a shower tall enough he didn't have to duck and a huge tube big enough for two meant for soaking. Peter's looked like a loft set up with an open bedroom above a small sitting room set up. Bucky of course had a defensible room, and both a compact bathroom and kitchenette. There were common rooms of course, and somehow trooping up and down the stairs didn’t seem like torture.

"It came together a little too well," Sam said suspiciously, eyeballing the arched windows. There was no way they were part of the original architecture, not with every other small pane of separated glass glazed a slightly different color of blue. They were beautiful and the morning sun would be bright but not blinding. Somehow that was the least weird thing. "But it'll do for now. I think my bed might be bigger than it used to be."

"You want some help trying it out?" Bucky asked, hope lifting his voice. 

"I guess if it's going to come alive and eat us, we might as well die together at this point," Sam said, feigning a nonchalance he absolutely didn't feel. He'd noticed Bucky's biceps flexing under the weight of so many boxes, how his trim waist turned to avoid Peter's attempt to pull things over by webshooters. He was only fucking human.

"Get over here, Wings," Bucky smirked, holding his arms out while he stepped into the room. He pulled Sam in when he was close enough, the small smile transforming him from a handsome mess to an absolutely stunning mess.

Sam smiled back, feeling the timer counting down to the end of this game. "You got me, now what you gonna do with me?" he asked, propping his arms up and over Bucky's shoulders. He tangled his fingers in Bucky's loose hair, the slightly damp waves clinging to him.

He didn't get an answer, instead he got Bucky's mouth pressing against his own with a gentle insistence that he open up. Neither of them had shaved recently, and the rasp sounded counterpoint to the soft, wet slide of Bucky's tongue against his. He blinked his eyes open, focusing through the extreme close up of Bucky's face so he could watch his thumb trace the straight line of Bucky's eyebrows. A soft sound escaped him and his heart thumped hard in his chest.

Bucky pulled back, a smile on his face. "I knew that first time wouldn't be a fluke," he said, turning his head into Sam's palm and kissing the center. "I kissed you and I saw stars."

"You think you romantic, but really you just kissed me because you were befuddled from a concussion courtesy of Zemo's goons," Sam teased, glad that neither of them were bleeding this time. He pulled Bucky in again, breathing in the smell of him as Sam closed his eyes and swayed closer.

"No, that's not. Look before we- I just- love you, okay?" Bucky said, rubbing his hands down Sam's back. He shifted his weight, a sure sign he felt in over his head when he was normally so rock solid. "No matter what else, I just wanted you to know."

"Of course I know, dummy," Sam said, his eyes still closed as he kissed along Bucky's jawline.

Bucky moved him backward, going step by step until Sam's thighs hit the mattress and he would have fallen if he hadn't had an iron grip around Bucky's shoulders. He kept his eyes closed, the vertigo battling how much he wanted to stay close to this strange man from the past who had turned out to be such a complementary partner. He trusted Bucky with more than his life, what was a little trust fall into the matress?

"You know how much I like watching you bend over?" Bucky teased, his hands briefly cupped Sam's ass before he wrapped his arms around Sam's waist, pulling their bodies tightly together. "How much I love it when you get bossy and your voice goes into Captain America mode?"

"That must get awkward in your new uniform," Sam muttered between kisses. Gravity pulled them, and Bucky allowed it, slowly laying them down into the fresh made bed.

"Do you know how hot I get when you take in your strays?" Bucky asked, ignoring Sam's attempt at humor. "My belly goes tight every time you badger me into taking care of myself. My toes curl when you get Pete to smile. You're the best man I'll ever know, and I still can't believe you let me touch you."

"Are you kiddin' me? I-"

"Hush," Bucky said, dropping more of his weight on Sam. He slotted his knees between Sam’s thighs, pushing them apart to make room for himself. His hair fell across his forehead, but he ignored it in favor of running his thumb around the outside of Sam’s ear. "It's really your eyes. Even when you were so angry you could spit nails, your eyes never told me to go. Not even on the helicarrier. I could get lost in them."

Sam wrapped his thighs around Bucky's waist, giving him the leverage to work his forearm against Bucky's throat and exchange their positions. He shifted forward until his knees pinned Bucky's upper arms. "What a bunch of bullshit," he said, glaring down. "My eyes ain't your home."

"I- Sam?" Bucky asked, losing his smooth confidence of a moment ago. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's just," Sam gut checked himself. He had gotten angry and he wasn't sure why. Bucky had turned into quite the smooth talker, and normally Sam liked that their bantering was a basic form of foreplay. He'd have to think about it, but later if he hadn’t completely ruined the mood. "Let's go back to the kissing."

Bucky smiled, his hair fanned out on Sam's pillow was a good look on him. "C'mon then," he challenged, going limp under Sam's thighs.

Sam slid down, fitting his body over Bucky's while he held himself up on his elbows. The angle was different, he sucked on Bucky's lower lip teasing it plump. He took control, hitching his body up to grind into Bucky's belly and spared a moment to be thankful he'd already changed into his sweats. It wouldn’t take long, he was sure of it, but that was okay, they’d have more chances. Bucky’s big hands kneaded against his ass, and Sam had to pull away from Bucky’s mouth to get some air.

"Hey guys, you've got to come check this, ew! Shut the door when you're going to get all horizontal, common decency!"

Sam rolled to the side and silently asked the ceiling for a well timed death trap. Anything so he wouldn’t have to choose between strangling Peter and being a good Captain America. "What is it, Peter?" he asked when death failed to come, and Bucky continued to hide under the arm he'd flung over his face.

"There's a monster under my bed!" Peter yelled, his upside down head disappearing upstairs. He'd really been getting into sticking to the walls lately. "Come check it out!"

"What's the chance that it eats him and we finally get to be naked together?" Bucky asked after another second of catching his breath.

"Slim to none with our luck," Sam answered, heaving himself off the bed. At least when he was cock blocking, Peter also worked as a decent way to will his hard-on away. "Let's go see what he's found."

Peter's room had that exposed brick hipster vibe where most of it was a living and gaming room, but above the bathroom and the closet was a loft area with his bed. Apparently the house had forgotten to include stairs for those who didn't have superhuman jumping skills. Sam scowled at Peter who hadn't calmed down his hyper urging for them to hurry.

"How the fuck am I supposed to get up there?" Sam asked, gesturing at the twelve foot difference.

"Aren't you the one with the wings?"

They both ignored Peter, but Bucky's suggestion wasn't much better. "Here, I'll give you a boost," he said putting one arm around Sam's waist.

"Don't you dare," Sam started, about to jerk away, but he was too slow and Bucky grabbed him around the knees lifting him up until he could comfortably grab the edge and pull himself up. "I hate you."

He rolled up to his knees in time to watch Bucky jump and then gracefully pull himself up with his metal arm, twisting his body up to land on his feet. He smirked at Sam's muttered _ show off_ and then turned to Peter. "So, you're scared of the thing under your bed?" he asked, pulling a rather large knife from the sheath on his calf.

"What? No, where did you even get that knife? I'm not scared. It's cool," Peter said, balanced on top of his dresser and whipping his head between them and his bed. "So far it only takes socks. It's ignored pickle chips, a banana, a half-can of flat soda, and a pb&j."

"All right, first, we haven’t even been here a night, do not let food pile up in here it's gross and I am not your maid service. Second, how many socks have you fed that thing?" Sam asked, catching Peter's guilty face as he slid the empty top drawer shut with his bare foot. "Okay, so all of them. You fed a monster a smorgasbord?"

Peter hunched over shrugging, but perked up again in an turn of emotional whiplash Sam did not envy even if he did sometimes wish to have his teenage knees again. "It's not bad. I don't think it's bad, it's really pretty cool the way it oozes out and grabs it," he said, using his hands in some esoteric teenage language.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, if only someone hadn't already fed it all the socks," he said, not _not_ believing Peter, but a monster under the bed seemed a little spot on for their first night in a haunted house.

"Here, I got it," Bucky said, balancing on one foot so he could pull the other sock off. He lifted an eyebrow at Peter, who gestured at the floor at the end of his bed. Bucky tossed the sock, and they all waited to see what would happen. 

Then they waited some more.

And kept waiting.

"Any minute now," Peter said again, drawing the words out in hope that the sock eating would commence at the end of his sentence. 

It did not.

Sam leaned against Bucky, the long ass day finally catching up with him. Peter looked so intensely disappointed that he'd give up another hour of sleep to wait and see if anything happened. "Maybe if we moved it closer?" he offered, wondering just how much sugar Peter had inhaled to start with the hallucinations.

"That didn't matter before. Oh, wait, I know!" Peter yelled, launching himself over their heads in a cartwheel. "Don't move, I'll be right back!"

Returning quickly, Peter held up a bag of Sam's new socks. "It only likes clean socks! Here watch this," he said, tossing a handful of them onto the floor.

Unimpressed, Sam took a deep breath, but quickly shut his mouth with a clack of his teeth when a shadow crept out from underneath Peter's bed. He couldn't have said he would have noticed it if they hadn't been waiting for it. There was a slight ripple, his eyes itched watching it, and then each sock was slowly pulled under the bed, one by one, lost to darkness. 

"Well," he said finally, standing straight again with a new burst of adrenaline to get him through the next twenty minutes. "I guess I can't blame it. I don't really want to go anywhere near Buck's dirty socks either."

"Help me move the bed," Bucky said, pulling Peter with him while he handed his knife to Sam as if it would help him in the slightest against a shadow void.

In total they moved the bed four times, and nothing grabbed their ankles no matter how temptingly they dangled over the mattress. The floor underneath was bare with no socks, but each time they moved the furniture, the thing underneath continued to gobble up Sam's new socks. It didn't make a sound, didn't touch anything else they offered it, and Sam could tell Peter was already getting ridiculously attached. 

"All right now, quit it," Sam said, snatching the plastic bag with the last pair of his socks. "I did not plan the budget anticipating a sock monster. Peter, are you okay sleeping in here, or do you want to bunk with one of us?"

Peter gave him a strange look but shrugged. "I don't mind staying in here for now, " he said, a yawn breaking in on the last of his sentence. "But you're going to buy more socks, right?"

"Yeah, for your _feet_," Sam said, pointing just in case Peter still didn't get it. He was not running a home for wayward barefoot street urchins.

Pouting, Peter kneeled beside the bed, now back in its original position, and gestured to the empty shadow. "We can't just starve it now that it's gotten used to having a full belly, or y'know whatever a void has," he said, scrunching his face up. "I know what it's like to be hungry, and now it knows we could take care of it."

Sam's own belly gave a lurch in sympathy. He knew what it was like to be hungry, Bucky knew what it was like to be near starving. Even if he didn't have any sympathy, the puppy dog eyes Peter were aiming his way were turned up to full volume. "Fine, but no more binge eating," he said, wiping his palm over his face. "We'll figure out a schedule and I'll start buying in bulk."

Getting down was easier than up, and he landed lightly letting Bucky follow him out to the hallway and down the stairs. Peter was on the third floor, he was on the second, and Bucky in the basement. Spread out enough to all have their own space, but Sam felt something primal in having them all under the same roof, safe enough for now. Bucky was right to take Strange up on the offer of the house, this was better than the apartment or his other contingency plans.

He paused on his landing and turned to Bucky, backing him up against the bannister. The excitement from earlier definitely gone, he knew he was about two minutes from completely passing out. He wasn't in any mood to get naked and play with Bucky, but a goodnight kiss was what this day needed. He tilted his head in a gentle closed mouth kiss, and found himself almost willing to sleep right there standing up.

"You need to go to bed, Wilson," Bucky said, chuckling so Sam could feel it through both their chests. "You're sleepwalking."

"Yeah," Sam reluctantly pulled back, smacking his lips and fighting his own yawns. "I'll see you tomorrow morning. You must be excited to try out your bedroom, we definitely couldn't have done anything like it before."

The difference between what he'd been able to give Bucky before and what the house had was the difference between night and day. He wondered if Bucky had gotten a good night's sleep at all with the windows and the flimsy walls in the old place. If nothing else they'd definitely get the chance to use this place to recharge before they figured out Peter's situation and then moved on.

"Um, yeah, you're right," Bucky said, glancing over his shoulder at the stairs. "I'll just head that way. See you for breakfast."

Sleeping in a new place was always hit or miss for Sam, he was tired enough for his brain to shut off pretty quickly, but a house like this made noises and that was before he factored in the haunting. He stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed. A bed that was clearly bigger than it had been before when he rolled to the middle and stretched out spread eagle and still couldn't reach the edges of the mattress. He, Bucky, and Peter would all fit pretty comfortably. Not that he wanted Peter anywhere close to his bed.

The house settled, slight creaks and a few groans, but Sam quickly found himself sinking to sleep, his body relaxing until he thought he was floating. He woke up a few times, but never enough to do more than flop to his other side and bunch the pillow up against his cheek. Once his foot hit something and he did stir, sitting up to investigate.

"Shhhh, it's just me," Bucky whispered. "Go back to sleep."

Sam did, sleeping through until the sunlight washed through the windows above his bed and lit up the mirror on the opposite wall. He stretched, checking his watch to see that it was already just past eight. He hadn't slept so well since, well since before The Raft for sure. He picked his sweats up off the floor and pulled them on, did his business, and then jogged down the stairs for breakfast. 

So far so good.

#

It was a week after they'd moved in and so far everyone still had all their fingers, toes, and from what Sam could tell their souls. The thing under Peter's bed continued to be a friendly sock gobbler. The spiders kept their thick webbing to the corners and ate the moths that swarmed out of every new closet they opened. Sure, something screamed every now and then, but no one got possessed, there weren't any children's dolls popping up, and so far no one had found any torture porn rooms hidden behind bookshelves.

Strange had gotten it right when he called the place _slightly_ haunted.

Misty kept him updated about the current likelihood of Eastman keeling over with a heart attack, which increased every day he couldn't find them. Otherwise, he hadn't gotten any further on Peter's issues. SI was doing some investigation, Pepper had told him Quentin Beck had been a disgruntled employee once upon a time, but the conspiracy was too big for him to pull off on his own. The fact that the three of them couldn't do anything to help rubbed him raw, but so far they'd all managed to keep their tempers in check. It didn't hurt that Sam was getting the best sleep of his life for once.

He and Bucky were loitering in the kitchen after a quick lunch. The kitchen being one area where the house had allowed fluorescent lights to be installed, which along with the big window over the sink made it the brightest place available. Sam was savoring a last cup of coffee for the day when Peter exploded into the room in full Spider-Man uniform. He grabbed for the remote and desperately poked buttons until the little TV in the corner snapped on. The news showed all too familiar destruction.

"There's a giant elephant man rampaging through the neighborhood and it's already destroyed one SWAT bus, we gotta go help. We gotta go now!"

"Peter, if we go out there, there's a good chance someone will try to take you," Sam said, setting his mug down as he stood up at attention, already calculating how long it would take him and Bucky to gear up. They'd had it down to ten minutes but now there were stairs and skylights to consider. There was a reward out on Spider-Man or Peter Parker so they'd have to deal with bounty hunters along with the local police, and all the feds who were still swarming the area. "Me and Bucky can go take care of this."

"No, it's my neighborhood, it's my job to protect it. If I don't do this then there isn't any point in clearing my name, it won't mean anything," Peter said as he grabbed the top of his mask to pull it off. "Please, Sam, I can do this."

Sam knew he didn't have the right to bench Peter, but that wouldn't stop him from worrying. "All right," he said, "You'll go ahead, try not to get into direct conflict. Start with crowd control, see if he'll chase you somewhere less populated."

"Sure thing, Cap, but how are you going to find us?" Peter asked, jerking his mask back on 

"You're not exactly subtle, Pete," Bucky answered.

"Last one there has to do the dishes!" Peter yelled, launching himself out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. They'd all decided that if they ever needed to run, the skylight would be best for Spider-Man, Bucky would have to take his motorcycle out the front door, and Sam would improvise.

"That's not how the chore chart works!" Bucky yelled, hauling ass to get to his storage space while Sam picked his mug up, tipped his head back, and swallowed as much coffee as he could. He had a feeling he was going to need the caffeine.

When he got up in the air, the trail of car alarms and broken fire hydrants pointed him the right way. Sam arrived just in time to see Peter with his hands full and catch him instead of letting the teen crash headfirst through a stained glass window. He was glad for the new stabilizers on his pack when the weight of the debris Peter was carrying caught up with his momentum.

"You got this now, Webs?" Sam yelled, making a hard right bank to avoid a thrown manhole cover.

"Yeah, watch out when he gets going, that armor he's wearing is powered up," Peter yelled, transferring his webs to one hand so he could shoot another web for his descent. The web bags holding the chunks of building he'd grabbed before they'd fallen on the crowd dropped lightly into a construction dumpster. "It's pretty neat, if we can get a piece of it, I'd love to stick it under a microscope."

"Nerd," Bucky teased over the comms, still blocks away on his bike.

"I've seen your DVR list," Peter answered. "Takes one to know one!"

Sam shot up again, out of the canyon the buildings formed to look at how far the rogue had gone. Turned out not far, the dull gray armor stomped through the green space around the corner from the church. He was big, not quite Hulk sized, but close and the armor made him massive, capable of ripping good sized trees out of the ground to fling at the police cars lined up in front of him. He was yelling something, voice big and accented, but Sam couldn't understand most of it, but then he was sure the majority was just rage twisted into noise. Circling overhead, the tech in his goggles found body temps to count police and spectators, no one was in immediate danger; they could take the time to make a plan.

"All right, guys, this is what we're going to do-"

Bucky squealed around the corner and launched himself from the bike and onto the man's back. Sighing Sam swooped down, his sidearms springing forward so he could spray bullets into the ground and hopefully give Bucky time to get through the armor. He didn't know if the bullets would ricochet yet, so better to just act as a distraction. Hands on his shoulders dipped him down, his stomach jumped like a roller coaster, forcing him to pull his weapons back to their holsters.

"Sorry, Cap, coming through!" Peter yelled, already in front of Sam after using his shoulders to leapfrog into the fight.

The kick, when Peter landed it was barely enough to take the rhino, and it was Rhino now that Sam could see better, down to one knee. He pulled the shield from his back and sent it flying into Rhino's other knee. Bucky's choke hold wasn't doing much, and as quick as he noticed, he abandoned that tactic. Instead he twisted and sent several punches flying at Rhino's face while Peter clung to the bigger of the horns trying to help.

"This guy's even hornier than you two," Peter yelled, letting go and leaping off as Rhino got a grip on Bucky and flung him away like a child's doll. Other than some blood at his nose, he seemed completely unaffected by anything Bucky had thrown at him.

"You think you're funny, kid," Sam said, dodging to the side to catch the shield as it flew back toward him, "but you're not. I need you to know this."

"LET ME OUT!"

Sam landed next to Bucky and took an exaggerated look around. Sure the police had set up a perimeter, but it was back off the block, not close enough to bother the rampage. Rhino wasn't even concentrating on them or on the police, instead he was still acting like he had a gnat in his ear. Sam couldn't discern any pattern in the complete random chaos of flailing limbs, or the bowling over of trees. The next second, Rhino flung himself to the ground, rubbing his back like a dog with fleas.

"Okay, so," Sam drawled to break the silence, losing a bit of his defensive posture as Rhino continued to ignore them. "Anybody got any ideas?"

The Rhino armor was metal, but not separate pieces like Sam's armor or combined like the Iron Man suit. Instead the dull gray metal looked molded to the man's body, almost like nanotech, but nanotech gone wrong. Sam couldn't see any seems from the horned helmet that fit too close at his face to the oversized three-toed boots. Sweat dripped off Rhino's forehead, too much even accounting for the mid-summer heat.

"We get a really big can opener?" Spider-Man offered, dropping to a crouch by Sam's side. "I had to hit him pretty hard before you got here, and he didn't even notice. That armor is something else. Or, oh, I know. We throw a piece of cheese on his face!"

"He's in a lot of pain," Bucky said, ignoring whatever Peter had just said. He still pulled his rifle from his back and checked the flag chamber to be sure it was clear and ready to fire. Sam watched him take stock of the area, hoping he could find an advantage Sam had missed. "Doesn't seem like much of a planner, either. Hey, is that-"

"SPIDER-MAN LAY ON THE GROUND AND PUT YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD. DO NOT RESIST."

"For crying out loud," Sam muttered, launching Redwing and turning to the source of the bullhorn. Eastman stood behind a line of police suited up in riot gear, outfitted in military gear and holding body shields. He cleared his throat and yelled, "Are you fucking kidding me. Hey, do you see the giant Rhino who just redecorated five city blocks? Maybe you want to help us help you take care of that problem first, huh?"

"Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes this is your one and only chance to walk away and avoid harboring charges that you are begging me to drop at your feet," Eastman said, pointing hard at Sam's chest. Another line of troops separated themselves in a line further back, each armed with heavier duty ordnance. "Now move aside and tell your little friend to play nice."

The crowd pressed up against the hastily erected barricades, and Sam hadn't liked turning his back on Rhino, but felt surrounded even more acutely the moment he saw them turn. These were the same people worshipping Iron Man after the second snap, the people who raved on the internet, radio and TV shows, who lifted up the Avengers and begged to help, demanded the government do what was necessary to keep them together. Turned out the All New All Different Avengers wasn't what they wanted. A skinny man in a red ball cap started yelling and in seconds the rest of them had picked up the chant.

"SPIDER-MAN SUCKS! SPIDER-MAN SUCKS! SPIDER-MAN SUCKS! SPIDER-MAN SUCKS!"

Briefly touching Peter's shoulder to steady both of them, Sam then typed commands into his gauntlet. Behind them, Redwing stooped low to the ground and buzzed Rhino with an upgraded electrical shock. Sam shoved Bucky to the side and grabbed Peter as he shot up into the air unfurling his wings to miss Rhino's stampede toward Eastman by a bare moment. 

Civilians scattered to safety but Eastman's armored vehicle took the brunt of Rhino's charge, caving in to the depth of Rhino's waist. The police fired everything they had at him, the area disappearing for a moment in the smoke of honest to god rocket launchers. Sam sneered at the idea of grown men planning to use those weapons against a teenage superhero. The smoke cleared and from what Sam could see, it hadn't slowed Rhino down a bit as he continued flinging cars out of his way.

Rhino staggered to a stop, looking almost like a puppet on a string and popped out two panels on his back. Sleek guns unfolded, but they spun erratically pointing in different ways before spouting jets of flame that ramped Rhino up into a manic attack. The police fired again, doing nothing more than endangering themselves, unable to pierce the armor or hit the small target that was the man's face. Sam didn't know who he felt the most sorry for. 

Peter wiggled out of Sam's grasp and dropped back to the ground, scooping something up off the ground. Hovering, Sam watched as Rhino bellowed and ran down the middle of the street, his giant strides moving him quickly. The police in the area hesitated between following him and surrounding Peter. Sam wasn't too worried considering Peter's agility, but then the crowd found their courage again.

The first thing thrown has a styrofoam cup half filled with soda and ice. It collided with the side of Peter's head, sticky liquid splashing and dripping down the side of his uniform. Rage filled Sam, and his fingers twitched for his triggers.

"Hey, c'mon guys," Peter pleaded, holding his hands up as the crowd continued to boo and throw the trash that came to hand. "You know me. I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. You know I wouldn't have hurt all those people!"

"Boo!"

"Get out, you grimey spider!"

"Go back to outer space!"

Redwing dropped stink pellets into the crowd before the woman reaching for the rock could do more than bend. Sam’s lips curled slightly as the crowd dispersed for good, coughing and a few puking at the excessive smell floating over their heads. Peter, who'd accidentally broken one of the compressed tabs last week, knew better than to stick around. Enough of the police were conflicted enough about their orders to bring Spider-Man down to distract the rest.

"Rendezvous back at the house," Sam said over the comms, and waited only long enough to see Peter disappear into the skyline and hear Bucky's bike roar to life before he followed his own order.

#

"Well, that could have gone better," Bucky said when Sam finally made it down into the kitchen. He had two oversized mugs waiting and immediately held one out for Sam's grabby hands.

They'd all made it back in one piece with only a handful of bumps and scrapes between them, and most of those probably gone thanks to Bucky and Peter's accelerated healing. Unfortunately, Peter's problems weren't the kind that could be fixed with a Captain Marvel themed band-aid. Seeing the people you were trying to help turn on you wasn't easy, didn't matter how old a person was, Sam's military history had proved that. 

"It could have gone worse," Sam said, closing his eyes and inhaling the smell of dark chocolate. They hadn't found any sort of air system in the house, but so far it'd kept the kind of cool and vaguely damp environment anyone would expect from a haunted house. While it was nice now during summer, Sam wondered what it would do in the winter, but they'd probably be long gone by then. He shivered, and blinked back at Bucky, "This had better be the Irish kind, I've had that sort of a day."

Nodding, Bucky took a sip of his. "Extra in yours, I still like to taste the chocolate in mine," he said, leaning against the sink. "The house is bigger."

"I thought something was different. What's it done now?" Sam said, sliding out the kitchen chair to take a seat for what felt like the first time all day. He hadn't been able to retreat straight back to the house as the others had. The police had extra drones in the sky, concentrated on him, and it had taken time to avoid their cameras. Once he had, Misty had called, wanted to swap intel on the Rhino since she didn't think Eastman was going to give him the attention he deserved, and Sam had agreed with her. Unfortunately, they still didn’t have much.

"Another floor between the third and the attic, looks like extra living space," Bucky said, gazing up at the ceiling. He was wearing soft sweatpants and a tank, his legs spread just enough that Sam could imagine himself kneeling there in the space between. "A better armory and training space in the basement opposite from me."

"Hm," Sam made the noncommittal noise, dragging his mind out of the gutter. "Think we could rent to Airbnb?"

Bucky took Sam's mug, empty before he realized he'd drank it all, to rinse in the sink. "I'm gonna go with no," he said, swiping them briefly before he set them down and turned the water off. "How's Pete doing?"

"He's a good kid," Sam said, stretching his arms above his head and popping his back. Peter was a great kid, and if he took point with the newly emerging young superheroes, then their Avengers team would be miles above the current one. "Takes things too hard right now, but he's settled down. Believes me when I tell him we're going to sort this all out."

At first Sam had thought it was one of the gargoyles the house seemed to love so much, but when he landed on the roof and it'd moved, he'd nearly had a heart attack. Peter, suit still sticky from the soda with cowl in hand, had waited perched on the edge of the roof watching the sun set over his city. Heart dropping a little, Sam had hoped he might be able to put that conversation off for a while, but instead, he took a seat next to Peter and did his best.

"Hey," Bucky said sharply, pulling Sam away from his what-if scenarios of complete failure. "We _are_ going to sort this all out. You and Pete both got people who are going to help us, people who care about you. It's just a matter of time."

"No, I know," Sam agreed, ignoring the little voice in his head that added as soon as they fixed this problem, a bigger one would pop up. There was something he could fix, someone standing right in front of him. "Hey, I know I've been busy, and you like your new room, but how would you feel about coming up to bed with me?"

Bucky hesitated a moment, but then held out his hand to help Sam up. "Thought you'd never ask," he said, keeping Sam's hand while he stepped close for a kiss. He switched his hands, twirling Sam under his arm so they could keep holding hands while Bucky snugged his arm around Sam's waist.

"Okay," Sam said, a little flustered at the gesture. Nobody had ever tried anything like that with him, but he fit into Bucky's side and only extreme vigilance on his part kept him from tucking his head into Bucky's neck. "Maybe you're a little romantic." 

"I'm going to romance the shit out of you, Birdy," Bucky whispered, his voice low and rough in the sudden dark after he'd turned the kitchen light out. He smelled like leather and gun oil, and the rough on his cheek was the perfect kind of sting against Sam's skin. Sam couldn't imagine a more perfect man to take to bed.

"Um, hey guys?"

With extreme reluctance, Sam let Bucky disengage as they both looked up the stairs to the first landing. Peter stood there anxiously itching the back of one leg with his other foot. He hugged his pillow and a Star Wars blanket close to his chest.

"What's up, kid?" Sam asked, resigned to dying from blue balls at this rate. Still, he wasn't about to put sex before Peter's needs, definitely not today.

"So, you know how the house kinda embiggened while we were gone?" Peter asked, wincing when a shriek echoed through the air. Sam squinted up at the attic; it wasn't time for the screamer, she went off four times on Tuesdays. Without fail. "Well, I think maybe there's another screamer and they're fighting for dominance, and also a family of bats moved into my room, and they're super cute and everything, but I don't think I can deal with this right now. Can I sleep with you?"

And that was how Sam wound up sandwiched in the middle, with Bucky peacefully drooling on his chest on one side, while Peter kept kicking him on the other.

#

"Hey, Peter, do you want to - What's going on?"

"What? Nothing? Nothing's going on, Mr Sam. Wilson. Sam Cap. Why? What's up?"

Sam put on his best unimpressed face, taking in the mess of Peter's room, the teen himself precariously leaning against and stroking the wall of his bathroom, and the not at all subtle rustling from the closet. Now normally, the obvious answer was a girl smuggled in and unrighteously shoved away before Sam knocked on the door. However, he had to factor in the house and Peter, who would always be a dork. There was a slim chance vampires were involved.

"Nothing's up," Sam said, walking around the couch and avoiding the closet. Again, he sat down in the middle, spreading his arms wide on either side of him. "Thought I'd come hang out for a while. You don't have anything else going on, do you?"

"Nope," Peter yelled, just a heartbeat to cover a very obvious bump from the closet. "But I bet you and Bucky would like some time to braid each other's hair or something."

"You little hypocritical shit," Sam snarled, immediately up and off the couch, crowding into Peter's space. "You pitch a fit every time Bucky and I get up to something, and don't think I'm not well aware you could spider sense your way right back to your room and noise cancelling headphones if you wanted to."

"Sam-"

"And now you sneak a girl in here to-"

"Sam! Man, c'mon, please don't?" Peter whispered loudly as he grabbed onto Sam's arms, squeezing too hard with his super strength. "Please?"

Sam's jaw twitched, and he flexed his shoulders and arms until Peter lightened up his grip. He didn't usually get slapped in the face with his own fragility among all the supers, but every once in a while, he had to deal with it and move on. The fact that Peter looked scared to death of him helped him move on pretty quickly as he racked his brain trying to figure out why. It wasn't like Peter had actually done anything wrong, well except for sticking that poor girl in the- oh.

"Look," Sam said, pitching his voice to carry as he winked at Peter's panic. He remembered what it was like to be a teenager, even a million years ago. The desperation to be mature enough that you could have sex, if you wanted to, but the utter embarrassment of actually discussing it. "You're the one who decided to sneak someone in here to show them the sock monster under your bed."

"You have a sock monster under your bed? Like a real monster? Being from a realm not of this earth? Is it scary. Does it make you think of the vast nothingness that awaits us all after the inevitability of death?" the girl asked as soon as she burst out of the closet. She was still in that awkward teenage phase, but she was pretty and the way she aimed her excitement straight at Peter made Sam hide a smile.

Peter let go of Sam entirely, running one hand through his already hopelessly fluffy hair as he gestured with the other make Sam take a step back or risk a slap to the face. "I mean yeah, it's not really, I mean it eats socks which is objectively pretty cool," Peter rambled, face going redder the more he spoke. 

"Show me. Or, whatever. Can he show me?" she asked, finally looking at Sam and instantly closing herself down into disinterested teenager mode.

Sam tried not to take it too personally. "Hey, I'm not the boss of this room," he said with a shrug before he put his hand on Peter's back and shoved him over to her side. "I just came up to see if Peter was hungry, but since Bucky's trying to remake his liver loaf thing again, how about I stick a pizza in the oven for you two?"

"Thanks Sam," Peter said, finally taking a deep breath over his hyperventilating.

"Just come on down in half an hour and introduce yourself to Bucky before you bring it back up here," Sam said, fondly remembering his own first puppy love days. He went to the door before he turned around, "And not too many socks, Peter. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Peter saluted before he picked the girl up and jumped to stick to the side of the wall while he put her down in the loft.

"Teenagers," Sam muttered, walking down to the kitchen and the odd smells Bucky created when cooking.

"So, she's pretty, huh?" Bucky asked after Sam explained about their guest. He was doing something to some hapless vegetables on the counter. Sam was contributing by watching Bucky's butt jiggle as he stirred and chopped.

"Yeah," Sam said, munching a carrot he'd stolen from Bucky's pile. "She also looks like she can take care of him. A little morbid maybe, but y'know, Peter's sunny enough for both of them."

Bucky washed the newly chopped veggies again, and then wiped his hand on the seat of his pants. He wore one of those wrap around leather bracelets that somehow made his wrist look vulnerable contrasting the thickness of his forearm. His pale hand spread across the dark denim of his jeans had Sam wiggle in his chair to contain his urge to grab Bucky’s hand just to hold it.

"Good," Bucky said, dumping the carrots, onions, and potatoes into a pot to boil. The splashes of which covered Sam's sigh. "Could you imagine if there were two of him? It's good she can balance him. Girls mature quicker anyway."

"Yeah, you should have seen his face when I-"

"Shush, they're coming down the stairs," Bucky interrupted, pulling the hand towel from the oven handle to give his hands a more thorough drying. Then he called out so they could hear, "Hey guys pizza's ready but you're really missing out on some classic 1940s grub here."

Peter and his girlfriend crept into the kitchen holding hands and staying at the far end. Peter's blush either hadn't died down, or they'd been doing something else since Sam had left the room. Sam’s hands went cold as a wave of ugly feelings swept through him while watching them, so young and uncomplicated. Coughing, Sam lifted his hand to cover any expression on his face while he acknowledged that feeling and then set it aside. These kids had their own obstacles ahead of them.

"Um, yeah, it smells, uh, great," Peter lied like a trooper, his eyes darted among them. "Um, guys, this is MJ. MJ this is Sam and Bucky."

"Hi, again," Sam said, waving with the smile on his face genuine again.

"Hello, MJ," Bucky said, reaching out his hand to shake hers. "It's nice to meet you. I'm glad you could come over."

"Yeah," MJ answered, shaking Bucky's hand briefly before she tucked her arms close around her midsection. "Your home is amazing. I can't believe New York lost a whole building and didn't notice. I started researching as soon as Peter told me where he was. Did you know in 1860 a woman and her three children swore the walls were bleeding?"

"That's interesting," Sam said, vowing to save his shudder for later. The house had better not attempt to recreate any of its more macabre elements. He walked over to the fridge and poked his head inside while Bucky finished slicing the pizza. "You want, soda, water, milk, or juice?"

He liked MJ immediately, she just had that kind of feeling about her, and Sam wasn't wrong very often. Eventually, he'd have to make sure they both understood the danger of dating a superhero, and that was on a good day, but it could wait. Peter had enough on his plate, and he'd already lived through some of the consequences. 

"Water, please," Peter answered after a brief look at MJ for agreement. "Thanks for making the pizza. We haven't gotten to spend any time with each other since my identity leaked."

Pulling out the water bottles, he walked to hand them over. "I get it," he said, patting Peter on the shoulder. "I'm not even going to ask if your parents know where you are this time. But until you’re both legal her parents need to know where she is. And no sleepovers until everyone is legal."

Bucky snickered as Peter squawked and turned more red. MJ flushed darker in the cheeks, but she kept her eyes on Sam's and tucked away a small smile as she linked her arm in Peter's. She was made of good stuff, and Sam felt embarrassment slide like a raw egg down his back over his earlier jealousy.

"Good for you," Sam said, nodding to MJ as he backed away and Bucky handed over the plates loaded with cheesy pepperoni goodness. "Let us know if you need anything else."

"Yeah, okay," Peter mumbled, trying to hustle MJ out of the kitchen before they did anything else to embarrass him. Sam was tempted to start making out with Bucky just for the principle of it.

"Hey, Sam?"

Impressed that MJ would talk to him, let alone use his name, Sam turned and gave her his full attention. "Yes?" he asked.

"I just wanted to say," MJ paused, obviously searching for the right words. "Thanks, I guess. Thank you for keeping the shield. After everything that happened, it would have been so easy for you to hand it back, go do something else that sucked a little less. But you didn't. And that matters to kids like me. We see you and it gives us hope. So, you know. Keep up the good work. Or. Whatever."

MJ quickly made her exit leaving Peter to follow in her wake with a besotted expression on his face.

"Are you going to cry?" Bucky asked tugging on one of Sam's belt loops.

Sam swiped at his eyes, struggling to take a breath over the sudden tide of emotion he hadn't expected. Teenagers were the worst. "Shut up," he managed, even though his voice threatened to break in the middle. 

"I think _I_ might cry. She’s right we see you and it gives us hope," Bucky said, catching Sam's chin in his fingers to turn his face so Bucky could easily plant kisses from one cheekbone across Sam's nose to the other cheekbone. "Want me to put the last pizza in the oven as a backup just in case my loaf catches on fire again?"

Sam twisted to finally tuck his face under Bucky's chin, he kissed the skin there, feeling Bucky's Adam apple bobbing. "I think love you," he mumbled, hugging Bucky tight. Sometimes the pain was worth it, life was a struggle but sometimes the right person noticed and it made all the difference.

#

"I've got it! Nobody move! Nobody speak! Nobody think!"

Bucky froze, spoon halfway between his cereal bowl and his mouth as Peter stumbled into the kitchen, fell on the table, and then guzzled Sam's coffee. Sam went back to reading the newspaper, shifting his legs under the table to graze his foot against Bucky's calf. It wasn’t the weirdest entrance Peter had ever made, and he doubted it would be the last.

"Why isn't anybody asking me about my breakthrough?" Peter whined, looking into Sam's empty mug.

"Maybe because you told us not to think?" Bucky asked, through a mouthful of cereal that had finally made it to its destination.

"Or because you told us not to speak?" Sam chimed in, finished with the sports section so he folded the paper back to the actual news section. He had to go out to the corner store to pick it up, the owner knew him by name now. Sam tried not to flinch at the poor old guy who just wanted to chat for a few minutes. 

"Ha, ha guys," Peter deadpanned as he waved the mug hopefully between them, only to finally get up and get his own damn cup when neither Sam or Bucky made a move to help the sleep deprived teen. "You should be more excited, I've figured it out!"

"Figured what out?" Sam asked, laying the paper down and crossing one ankle over his knee. 

Peter chugged two mugs of the coffee, looking wide eyed and vaguely ridiculous. "The Rhino's exo-suit! We deconstructed the piece I picked up and figured it out! It bonded to his skin, that's why he was going crazy. And we figured out how to get through it!"

"All right, first off, who is 'we'?" Sam asked, he didn't doubt for a second that Peter had done something amazing. The kid was a super genius, but if he expected Sam to act on anything then he'd need to figure out how to start explaining things so that the only 'merely pretty smart' could also follow along.

"Shuri and me, and T'Challa a bit, and also Ned!" Peter yelled, nearly jumping up on the table before he saw Sam's raised eyebrow and instead perched on the back of the kitchen chair. "We were skyping last night."

"Does MJ know you're skype buddies with a Wakandan princess?" Bucky asked, slurping up the last of his pink tinged milk.

"No, that's not what, it isn't like, oh crap," Peter sputtered, mind rolling in way too many ways to keep his balance. He stumbled off the chair and backpedaled until he leaned against the counter.

This time he kicked Bucky under the table. It was funny, but there was a time and place. Sam stood up and snapped his fingers in front of Peter's face, gesturing with two fingers for Peter to watch his eyes. "Focus, kid," he said, waiting until Peter had stopped wobbling. "What do you know about Rhino?"

"Okay, so the material is super strong, and it's actually kinda impressive the distribution of the-"

"Peter."

"I think we can adjust your armor to take advantage of the density without weighing you down too much, but anyway, acid. A particular make-up of acid followed closely by some kind of neutralizer-"

"Can you do it?" Sam interrupted again following along enough to understand what Peter was saying was feasible given what they'd all observed previously.

"Yeah," Peter said, shrugging, crossing his arms, and then tucking his hands in the back of his waistband. "I mean probably. I don't see why not."

"You and Tony never did," Sam said, fondness creeping into his voice despite all the trouble Tony had brought down on their heads himself. There was no doubt in his mind if Tony hadn’t Iron Maned himself out of that cave, hadn’t had Rhodey with him, hadn’t decided to mentor Peter, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against any of the things coming after them. "Okay, so now all we have to do is find him."

"Found him."

Sam turned to Bucky with a skeptical eyebrow raise. 

"No really," Bucky said, reaching across the table to twist the newspaper around. He poked the black and gray picture that was buried on page three b. "I saw this guy when we were out fighting Rhino. Scrawny, geek, angry type with some sort of tech up on the parking garage. I bet he's involved."

"Justin Hammer," Sam said, pulling the paper back to him so he could read the article he'd ignored earlier. "Apparently he was released from prison early due to staffing issues related to the snaps. Asshole. I never liked him when he was with the military, much less when he got involved in the Iron Man arms race."

"I'll call Happy," Peter said, excited to contribute again. "I'll bet Stark Industries is keeping track of him."

"Okay," Peter said, walking back into the kitchen five minutes later. "Stark Industries is not keeping track of Justin Hammer and Happy is too busy to talk to me."

Sam snorted into his newly refreshed coffee cup, but Peter's downturn face made him follow up. "Did he tell you what he was doing?" he asked, turning his phone over before Peter could see that he'd just been texting Pepper and knew exactly what was going on.

"No, it sounded like he was in a bowling alley or something," Peter said, frowning again. 

Sam winced, glad that Hope and Scott had volunteered to help out. "He's tracking down Beck's team, trying to find out who leaked the doctored footage of you," Sam said. They were in Mogadishu closing in on the last of the disgruntled former Stark employees. Pepper's eyes were full of fire when they video chatted, it was probably a good thing she was too busy to don her own armor. 

"Oh, man," Peter slumped into a chair, flopping his face into his hands. "He shouldn't have to do that. It should be me. I should be out there trying to clear my name."

"When you have friends, you let them help you," Bucky said, reaching over to squeeze Peter's shoulder and pat him on the back. When Peter looked up, Bucky smiled his wolf smile and held up his own cell phone. "When the bad guy you're tracking updates his location on Twitter, you plan to go have a chat."

#

"Sam, I need to tell you something."

From his position waiting on top of the building, Sam couldn't see either Bucky or Peter. They were waiting for Hammer to return from what he claimed was an investor's meeting, but from trying to tail him the last several days was actually a trip to his secret lab where they were less and less able to contain Rhino in his painful armor. It was just a matter of time before Rhino broke out, and if it wasn't for the collateral damage, Sam would have enjoyed letting him rip apart the entire Hammer Industries set up.

"Mission related?" Sam asked, his visor tracking vehicles that came and went through the front drive of the office building. So far none were registered to Hammer. Everything had gone so much slower when they were forced to sneak around the agents Eastman had set up all over town. They had to take the search in shifts and anytime he was at home, Sam passed out in bed and didn't wake again until he had to. He'd been eating too many power bars and guzzling energy drinks, and he wasn't twenty anymore, his temper was at a low point.

"Not even remotely, but I can't sit on it anymore," Bucky said, his voice so clear through their comms system that he could have been standing right next to Sam. "My bedroom isn't my bedroom."

"What? Did the house turn it into a mirror maze?" Sam asked flippantly. He knew Bucky was still unnerved by mirror mazes after one ill-advised trip to Syracuse, but if Bucky wanted to chat when they were supposed to be on a mission, then Sam was going to act a little like an asshole.

"No, you asshole," Bucky said, cutting right through Sam's irritation. "But it's just a panic room. It wasn't ever supposed to be my bedroom."

Sam dipped his head, taking his eye off the cars. "What are you trying to say?" he asked, if Bucky wanted to play twenty questions he could find a better time to do it.

"Every night I go to sleep downstairs and the house moves me up your room and I sleep with you until I wake up early and sneak out."

So there was the reason he'd been sleeping so well. It had been like a revelation, his first good night's sleep after the snap. Going all the way back to the Raft actually, if he were going to be honest, but the first time he'd woken up after sun up, not remembering any uneasy dreams was the first night he and Bucky had shared a hotel. Separated by three feet, Sam had drifted off listening to Bucky's breathing, seeing the small motions in the rise of his chest. 

It had felt like slotting back into place again.

"Awkward," Peter said in a high-pitched voice into the silence that followed Bucky's statement.

"Peter, I swear to god if you say one more word, I will shut you up in the first floor closet with the disembodied eyes and leave you there," Sam swore, jumping from the roof so he could swoop in to his secondary perch. Maybe if he could see the front desk he could tell if Hammer was inbound. He needed something to focus on with the bomb Bucky had just dropped.

"All right," Peter said, clearly unafraid of Sam following through on his threats. Blue and red flashed in the low sunlight as Peter also moved to his secondary location, "but as my friend Ned said 'Just because two people really like each other, doesn't mean they won't eventually murder each other over whether to keep the sheets tucked in'." 

"Obviously the sheets don't need to be tucked in," Bucky said, following Peter down the rabbit hole.

While Sam agreed, he liked to stick his foot out while he was sleeping and it was good enough to smooth all the bedding into basically the right place in the morning without retucking the sheet, this was neither the time nor the place. The fact that he could attribute his rest in that house to the fact it was bringing Bucky to him made perfect and slightly terrifying sense. There wasn't anything he wanted more, but he still wasn't sure he'd earned it, not if the house had to do it on the sly.

"Sam, are you mad?" Bucky asked , his voice smaller than Sam had ever heard.

"I'm not mad," Sam replied quickly, wishing they could have had this conversation face to face. The course of love never did run true, but this was absolutely ridiculous. Two grown ass adults shouldn't have to sneak around a teenage fugitive, a haunted house, and an entire government department throwing up roadblocks. Or Hammer showing up at the absolute worst time. "Buck, of course I'm not mad. You're always welcome in my bed, but we're gonna have to talk about this later. Hammer is pulling in now."

#

Hammer rolled over with an entirely expected speed. His newly broken arm courtesy of the Rhino probably had something to do with how quickly he babbled the location to the lab. It didn't turn out to matter much as they arrived in time to see Rhino burst through an exterior wall. If anything, he looked angrier than the last time he'd rampaged through town.

Peter was ready with his acid solution, and they were all armed with his modified super soakers, so it was really only a matter of making sure to avoid any splash zone. Of course Peter kept making jokes about crossing the streams, but all in all, the plan worked to perfection. They lured Rhino where he needed to be, and once the acid had eaten through enough of the suit he started to be able to rip it off, they dumped the concrete on him.

Sam wasn't surprised by how easy everything went, that's what happened when you had a good team and a good plan. He was surprised at the end, when they had Rhino firmly cemented in the loading dock and the police showed up. Despite the fact that only two cars pulled up with a jarring lack of lights or sirens, Sam still adopted a defensive position. His wings were up able to fly or shield him while he waited for them to shoot first and demand nonresistance later.

Two cops got out of the first car and walked to the edge of the dock, hands nowhere close to their gun belts. The shorter white cop whistled, taking out his baton to poke the hardening concrete. "Nice job, fellas," he said, reaching for his handheld radio. "We been looking for this fella for almost three years, 'course he didn't look like a zoo escapee back then."

"'Nice job'?" Peter repeated, creeping up behind Sam and then up on top of one of the new automated trash cans that started spinning in confusion to the added weight. Peter let it turn him in circles, craning his neck when he had to in order to watch the cops. "That's all you have to say? Not _'Hey scumbag, kiss the dirt and say your last prayers. Strip to your underwear and prepare to meet your maker!'_ Something like that?"

Sam again wished for nothing more than the privacy to let his palm meet face. Peter's impersonation of the police, even setting aside the bizarre instructions, was as good as any of Peter's attempts. Which was to say, they were all equally terrible, and Sam would need to explain how not to antagonize the group with institutional racial issues and a very recent grudge against them. 

"Kid, trust me, no one wants to see your underwear, least of all us," the other cop said as his partner stepped away to speak on the radio. He gestured and the third cop, a young looking black man approached with several clipboards. "Here you boys go, start filling out your statements, please."

"So, just to recap," Bucky said, stowing his rifle safely on his back. Of course he had a permit and if the republicans insisted on open carry, then they could damn well deal with these consequences. "We're not under arrest for harboring a known fugitive, and Spider-Man over there isn't under arrest for allegedly murdering half of London?"

"Don't you keep up with the news?" the youngest cop asked. He handed Sam his clipboard with the sort of bashful smile that had Bucky immediately raising an eyebrow. "Some teenage girl going by IronHeart found the full footage and a bunch of servers, sent it to the _Late Show_, and Colbert bumped some douche named Reynolds so he could monologue the entire time demanding your complete exoneration. The Squad took it up in Congress, and Bob's your uncle, the Feds are off our backs and yours."

Smiling, Sam couldn't help but shake his head. Teenagers. They just kept on keeping on, and one day the world was going to be so much better than the one he'd grown up in. He believed it, he knew it. He'd make sure someone tracked down IronHeart to thank her, make sure she had what she needed to fight the good fight. He fist bumped the cop, taking his paperwork with a much lighter heart.

"No offence, huh, Spidey?" the first cop called out, swinging wide to avoid walking anywhere within Bucky's arm's reach. "I never really believed you killed all those people."

"Uh-huh," Peter answered, skeptical for once. He stayed on the trash can, which continued to widen its struggle to knock off its freeloader, but held out his hand for the cop to give him the clipboard. After watching a few moments of the struggle, Sam took that clipboard, beat Peter over the head with it and then tossed it at his chest. "What about the rest of the New York population?"

"You know New Yorkers," the older cop said, pausing as he taped off the area to the growing crowd of rubberneckers. "We're hard headed, and sometimes we jump to conclusions, but we get it right in the end."

The cop nodded over to a dark-skinned family, maybe middle eastern, and their three little children, all proudly wearing Spider-Man merchandise. The oldest one let the littlest up on her shoulders so he could see, and he waved madly when he saw they were watching him. Sam’s heart beat a fast tattoo against his ribs, and he decided again how worth it this life was.

#

Sam got back to the house first, a prerogative of straight line flying and his jet pack. After stowing his gear and taking a shower, he waved Peter off on his visit to go stay with May for a few days, and then took the stairs two at a time down to the basement. Bucky was still in his shower, door open and steam escaping, so Sam bided his time snooping around.

The walls were bare, and the room neat. Clothes were threatening to burst out of the closet, and Sam had no idea where they all came from. The bed was completely tucked in, showing that Bucky apparently didn't bother getting under the sheets before falling asleep and allowing the house to move him upstairs. The dresser was slightly more cluttered, drawers bursting with clothes, and top littered with jewelry, hair ties, and pictures.

Picking up one frame, Sam felt a slow smile curl over his face. That had been a good day. They'd spent three weeks in Wakanda after they woke Bucky from cryosleep, and somewhere in the middle of that Bucky had felt well enough to attempt a trip into the market. Sam had found the cultural equivalent of a tourist trap and bought them all large brimmed hats and oversized sunglasses. He couldn't keep a straight face as he told them it was just in case they needed emergency incognito disguises. A child had snapped a polaroid and handed it off in exchange for very a crumpled U.S. dollar bill.

This picture had been through the ringer in somebody's lab, enlarged and enhanced, framed in a subtly carved wooden frame. There were fingerprints on the right side. Bucky must pick it up too, remembering all three of them together and happy for once.

"That's my favorite photo," Bucky said, emerging from the bathroom, one towel wrapped around his hips and another in his hands rubbing his hair. "I think everyone stopped and stared at Steve's stupid laugh and your gorgeous smile."

"Rumors of your game are sometimes justified," Sam said, feeling some heat on his face as he put the picture back and took a long look at Bucky instead. Bucky had enough hair on his legs to be a turn on, a dusting over his belly and chest. Wet, the hair trailed together darker than usual, and Sam had to work to drag his eyes up from the trail that led down from his bellybutton. 

Bucky laughed, throwing his extra towel into the laundry basket in the closet. "You just like being flattered, that ain't no secret," he approached Sam cautiously as if after all this time Sam was going to take off again. "If you're my fella, that's the least I ought to know."

"'If' huh?" Sam repeated, opening himself up to pull Bucky close. The kissed, lazy smacks that felt the way warm syrup tasted and probably looked ridiculous. "You're not sure?"

"Sometimes you look like you might need to have one foot out the door, but I can wait," Bucky said, using his palm on the back of Sam's head to guide him into a series of longer kisses. "I'm yours, and I can wait for you decide."

Suddenly he felt smaller than one of Scott's ants. He'd never meant to make Bucky doubt that he was all in to their partnership, both on and off the mission. "I think I've been your fella for a while now," he said, finger rubbing the soft terrycloth of Bucky's towel at his waistline. "The thing I wasn't sure about was settling down. It got ripped out from under me so many times. I never said anything, but Mom couldn't find the stuff she put in storage after the snap. It's gone, and I thought why bother? Why bother collecting things, getting familiar, meeting people if it's so easily gone. Like that."

Sam held his fingers up to snap, but changed his mind, bringing his fist to his mouth for a moment. They all hesitated when they saw Hulk's arm or felt the absence of Tony's quips in conversations. People who never knew Tony or Iron Man were setting up memorials all over the world. He didn't know what Natasha would have wanted to let people remember her, but they tried their best. Scott and Hope had taken over her children's programs, and the rest of them were just trying to make the world a better place.

They were going to keep losing people, and sometimes maybe he’d have to pick up and run, but he should have known better than to think he could put his life on hold.

"I can understand that," Bucky said, smoothing his hands up and down Sam's back. "You're trying to protect yourself. You didn't ask to have me or Peter riding your coat tails. If you don't want to stay here, that's fine. I'm okay with wherever as long as I'm with you."

"Sap," Sam said, definite heat conflicted between racing to his cheeks or pooling in his belly. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Probably something bad," Bucky said, adopting a hangdog expression.

This time Sam took control of this kiss, leaning forward so Bucky needed to tilt his head up. He reached to hold Bucky's face in both his hands, so awed that out of everyone, he was the one who could. "Something good," he said, breaking the kiss but mouthing across Bucky's chin. "I love you."

"Finally," Bucky teased, pushing Sam away slightly. "Let me put some pants on. We'll go up to _our_ bedroom and get frisky."

"'Frisky'," Sam repeated, shaking his head. "I take it all back. Who in their right mind wants to put pants _on_ at a moment like this?"

"You want me to streak through the house and scar Peter for life? You know he's going to pop out at the weirdest time. That kid has some sort of radar," Bucky used the arm hooked around Sam's waist to shift their positions so he could bend over and dig through his dresser.

"Peter's out of the house for the next few days. He's staying with May," Sam said, a sudden fear spiking that Peter would decide not to come back nearly knocking him out of the moment. Apparently, Peter didn't even have to be present to be a cock block. He put it aside, both he and Bucky deserved to have a good night. "So yes, I do want you to streak through the house."

"What-"

Sam grabbed the towel from Bucky's hips before Bucky could move and took off running. It felt like flying, streaming the towel behind him like a flag and laughing until he had to gasp for air. He grinned when he felt Bucky catch the other end before he'd made it to the top of the stairs. Without slowing down a bit, Bucky put one hand on Sam's hip and urged him on, breathing down his neck as they ran together, straight to Sam's bed to collapse in a pile of breathless kisses.

#

Sweat dripped down the middle of his back, but Sam minded it slightly less when he realized Bucky's white t-shirt was going vaguely see through with an equal amount of perspiration. They'd made it to the store and back, and only posed for selfies with one group of girls who were clearly tourists, so he called that a win. With Peter's name cleared and nobody currently causing trouble, they'd decided to stock up before the next emergency crashed over their heads.

The coolness of the house was a welcome relief, even knowing autumn was just around the corner and he'd be longing for some heat. Sam blinked through the dim interior, and patted his plant on one of the largest stalks. It had grown in leaps and bounds since the first day it had curled around him. It curled around his arm briefly and then went back to sunning itself.

"We've got company," Bucky said quietly, moving his bags to one arm as he reached for the pistol he'd hidden in the umbrella holder of the coat rack.

Listening, Sam thought it was too quiet. Even when Peter was occupied with his experiments, he typically had Karen playing something on the speakers hidden in the walls. Sam thought they used to be some sort of hidden passageways, but they had thankfully closed all those up. Off to the said of the entrance were a stack of bags and cases. Bad guys typically packed a lot lighter. Sam put his hand on Bucky's arm until he tucked the weapon into his back pocket, and then Sam took the lead.

The axe leaning against the wall outside the kitchen was the clue he needed to relax his shoulders. Eastman's utter inability to follow them back to the house or gain entrance made Strange's promise that it was safe feel more real. Sam signaled Bucky the okay and went in.

"Thor," Sam said in greeting as he set his grocery totes down on the table. "Shouldn't you be in New Asgard?"

"Oh, no, I don't want to disturb anything," Thor said combing his fingers through his beard. Overall, he looked happier, his different colored eyes bright and his hair washed within at least the last week. "Valkyrie is doing a fantastic job, I don't want to interrupt her."

Sam was sure the fact Darcy and Jane were doing a residency in the area had something to do with Thor's reluctance to visit, but he was sure in time Thor would be able to see his people without getting lost in the old pain. In the meantime, apparently they had extra house guests; there were more bags piled up in the hallway than even Thor could use. He tossed his sunglasses and keys in the bowl and asked, "How did you even get in here?"

"The strange man gave me a key when I asked him for lodgings and sustenance for my friends," Thor said, making his way across the smallish room to pull Sam into a lung squashing hug.

Bucky sidled by, intent on getting the ice cream into the freezer before it made a mess. "I think he prefers Strange Doctor," he said, glancing over his shoulder so when Thor picked him up from behind he could go limp to let Thor shake him like a ragdoll.

"Sam! Drax and Mantis are here, can we have pizza rolls?" Peter shouted from at least two floors up. The earlier silence was all the more suspicious knowing who was up there, and Sam expected at least two more holes in the wall.

"I am not your mama, get 'em yourself," Sam yelled back, making a mental note to call his own mom and thank her for being such a good Den Mom to his cub scouts. "At least now we know why the bunk beds showed up."

"Yeah, but at least rate were going to need a secondary kitchen, or at least a kitchenette up there," Bucky said, gesturing for Sam to hand over the last of the bags. "And we're going to have to start getting regular deliveries if we're going to feed everyone. I thought me and Stevie were bad, but that kid eats like no one's business."

A week ago, the idea would have driven Sam to packing a new go-bag, but the idea of a home base, it made sense, it made him happy. He wasn't about to run from his feelings anymore, and he wasn't going to let anyone take his happiness away from him again. The Raft and those years being a fugitive himself were in his past and he was going to leave them there.

"Say, what would one need to do to get their name on this magnificent board and earn this sparkling glory?" Thor asked, poking at one of the gold stars beside Bucky's name on the chore chart Peter had made. He already had glitter sticking to his finger and smeared above one arched blond eyebrow.

"Follow me this way," Bucky said, picking up the Tide pods they'd need to remind the aliens not to eat. "Allow me to introduce you to the laundry room."

#

Bucky face planted right in Sam's belly, forcing a small grunt from Sam as he took off his reading glasses and set them and his book on the nightstand. "Hard day, baby?" he teased, tangling his fingers in Bucky's hair and tugging a little. Somehow Bucky had been talked into giving a self-defense lesson to Peter’s friends, and it had gone about as well as would be expected. At least nobody had any broken bones. "Tell me about it?"

"I'd really rather suck your cock," Bucky answered, still muffled in Sam shirt. He started nosing the material up, rubbing his stubble on the soft bits that rolled because of the way Sam slouched. One hand worked up between Sam's legs, nudging them apart, his fingers big and warm when they stopped barely brushing against Sam’s balls.

"Your fucking mouth Bucky, it's so fucking good," Sam said, and then yelped a little as Bucky nipped him. He tightened his fist in Bucky's hair, but by way Bucky's hips ground down hard into the mattress, it was not the deterrence he had expected. He tugged again and then let go completely, smirking at Bucky’s unhappy groan.

Sam hooked his thumb in his waistband and lifted his hips, rubbing against Bucky’s open palm for a moment before he shucked the pants altogether. His dick curved up, thick against his thigh, head just beginning to shine. He took his shirt off and then tugged on Bucky’s. "C’mon," he said, slipping his hand inside to brush against the metal of Bucky’s shoulder. "Take it off. You lock the door?"

"Yes, sir," Bucky said to both demand and question. He stood up, and Sam briefly regretted asking when he lost the heavy weight across his belly. Stripping, Bucky didn’t try to be sexy, he just was, large and coiled tightly muscles moving like a perfect machine. He settled back on the bed between Sam’s legs, arms thrown over Sam’s thighs with his eyes on the prize.

"Fuck," Sam drawled, stretching his arms up over his head as Bucky took him in hand. "How is your robot hand always so much warmer than your other one?"

"It’s not a robot," Bucky said in his very best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice.

Sam wiggled, trying and failing to keep a straight face, and here he thought _Kindergarten Cop_ would be harmless. "Movie night is cancelled forever. You can’t be trusted," he said, managing to hook one ankle across the back of Bucky’s knee.

Bucky grinned, didn’t answer, but put his mouth down pressing his whole face to the seam of Sam’s thigh. He licked once, and Sam could easily imagine the salty taste on Bucky’s tongue even as he struggled to hold still. As Bucky moved his mouth, his chin bumped into Sam’s balls and his dick twitched, precum a steady drip wetting the tip and pooling under Sam’s belly button.

"Sweetheart," Sam said, his voice soft as he tugged on Bucky’s hair again. He wasn’t trying to hurry things along, content to stay like this forever, warm and together in their bedroom. He took Bucky’s hand, trailing it up his torso to flick briefly over his nipple. Bucky’s hand was strong, callused but still somehow soft, and Sam loved holding it, loved bending each finger and circling his thumb across the palm. He brought Bucky’s hand up to his mouth, kissing a finger and then sucking it into his mouth.

"That supposed to be a hint?" Bucky asked, looking up through his eyelashes, face so tantalizingly close to Sam’s dick that it drooled another helping.

Sam closed his eyes against all the rush of adrenaline through his body. He squeezed Bucky hard between his knees and sucked his finger like the first attempt to get a milkshake through a straw. It still wasn’t real, this life with a home and a lover, and a family. Part of Sam was still waiting for another snap to take everything away, but it was getting better. Day by day, it was getting better.

Groaning around the finger in his mouth, Sam tried and failed to stop the reflexive jerk of his hips when Bucky swallowed him down. They’d managed enough practice that Bucky was ready, forearm across Sam’s pelvis, metal plating leaving his skin in little nibs while he held Sam down. The wet heat of Bucky’s mouth was heaven. Bucky pushed another finger into Sam’s mouth, but Sam speared his tongue between them, forcing them against his cheeks so he could grit his teeth at the sensations.

He opened his eyes. He couldn’t not, not at the sounds Bucky made around his dick, moaning and slurping. Sam could never get enough of it, being so close to someone that the most vulnerable part of him fit inside them. He wasn’t even in a hurry to get off, the low buzz in his blood making him drunk on the contact. His hand wrapped around Bucky’s wrist pulling his fingers out of Sam’s mouth so he could mimic the swirl Bucky’s tongue had just made around the head of his dick.

His orgasm, when it came, was like a low simmer turning into a rolling boil, and Sam tugged on Bucky’s hair trying to warn him. Bucky just groaned and hummed, pushing himself up a little so he could swallow Sam down his throat while he buried his nose in the barely there hair at Sam’s groin. Sam bit down softly on Bucky’s fingers, refusing to release them even as he struggled to breathe hard enough through his nose. 

"Sam, honey, I got you," Bucky said, his voice wrecked. He dragged himself up Sam’s body, his belly pressing against Sam’s sensitive skin for a moment before it was his heavy dick rubbing there. He twisted his fingers, pressing down against Sam’s tongue, then slipping them out to put his mouth there. It wasn’t even a kiss, not with Sam still gasping, but the slide of their lips together let Sam curl his arms around Bucky’s back holding him tightly.

Bucky lifted himself up, and Sam whined in response to the loss of heat and weight, but Bucky shushed him. "Roll over, baby, I’ll take care of everything," he said, waiting until Sam started to comply before he leaned over to rifle through the nightstand drawer.

The blanket beneath was soft, fuzzy like Bucky preferred, and Sam couldn’t help wallowing for a moment, spreading out and rubbing as much of his skin into it as he could. He wanted Bucky back on top of him, inside him, everywhere with him. He needed it, and it scared him, but the craving was only getting worse, Bucky invading every thought, every cell of his body. Sam sighed heavily, releasing the tension that had crept back into him.

"Close your legs up, hold ‘em tight for me," Bucky said, rubbing lube between Sam’s thighs as he moved them and then up into the crack of Sam’s ass. "I love you like this, relaxed and loose."

"Love you," Sam replied, voice slow and movements slower and he pillowed his head on his hands.

Rolling on top, Bucky adjusted his dick, sliding it between Sam’s thighs before he started slowly thrusting. Sam moved with him, pushing up as Bucky moved down, sighing happily. He was always sleepy after sex, felt like he was floating on a cloud and the only thing keeping him from flying away was Bucky’s weight. Sometimes Bucky would pull back too far, and the next thrust would push his dick along Sam’s ass, both motions equally made Sam’s toes curl.

"You feel so good," Bucky said, worming his metal arm under Sam’s chest to pull him exactly where Bucky wanted him. He kissed and then dug his teeth into the meat of Sam’s shoulder, soothing away Sam’s pained grunt with more kisses and tender licks. "You always feel so good."

"C’mon, _c’mon_," Sam said, urging Bucky on, arching his back more, squeezing his thighs tighter. He wanted Bucky to feel what he did, the satisfied molasses in his bones, the gratifying end to all the dancing they’d done together. He wanted Bucky with him forever.

Bucky moved his other hand to Sam’s hip, hitching Sam up to give him more room to move. His hips slammed into Sam’s ass, grinding for a heartbeat before starting over. Sam let himself be shoved back and forth while Bucky curved above him. Sweat gathered between them. The hard flesh of Bucky’s dick and wiry scratch of his hair irritated Sam’s sensitive skin, working in counterpoint to all the good flowing in and around him.

Sam felt it when Bucky stilled, pulled away, and came, letting it fall on Sam’s back. He felt it too, almost as if he’d just come again himself and slumped into the mattress. Groaning, he stretched and found Bucky still boxed him in, thighs outside, hands holding his flanks. The warm bubble kept them surrounded, separate from the rest of the chaos of the house and quietly content.

"You gonna have to let me up eventually," Sam said after several silent minutes passed. He dropped his hand to curl over Bucky’s boney knees. He didn’t really have any inclination to get up, but he had also just done laundry and the pods were still disappearing mysteriously fast. 

"I don’t think that’s necessarily true," Bucky said, spreading his fingers across Sam’s shoulder blades and then up and around to his biceps. "We stay here, the entire world goes to fuck itself. Happy ending for everyone."

"I like it," Sam agreed, twisting to look over his shoulder. Bucky’s hair had gone wild with that slight wave and stuck to the sweat on his forehead. He looked like a demented angel, beautiful and too strange to hope to keep.

Licking his lips, Bucky moved his hands to Sam’s thighs, smearing the tacky lube and pressing his thumbs into the meat of Sam’s ass. The look of concentration on his face made Sam heat up all over again. He was naked sure, but he’d never felt more like someone was looking straight into the heart of him.

"Let me up," he said, turning back around and hiding his face in his hand. He just needed a second, a moment to figure out his edges and stuff himself back inside. It shouldn’t have happened, but sometimes Sam wondered if they were still snapped away and all this was his mind trying to make sense out of the impossible.

"Stay there," Bucky said, sliding backward down the bed until he was on his feet. "I’ll take care of it."

"I can do it," Sam said, tensing to go off a different side of the bed wanting to put some distance between them. Bucky’s hand on his foot stopped him.

Bucky’s grip was soft, loose as his fingers circled and thumb brushed across Sam’s ankle bone. "You can do it," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "But let me, please."

Not waiting for an answer, he went into the bathroom and came back with a warmed washcloth he used across Sam’s thighs and up his back cleaning up the mess. Sam allowed it, knowing Bucky needed to take care of him more than Sam needed to hide. He lifted his backside up on his knees when Bucky pulled at his hip, letting him get to those embarrassing in between places.

When Bucky finished Sam pulled the blanket and sheet down burrowing under the covers. The lights turned off and the bed dipped, Bucky a solid and welcome presence behind him. Sam turned, and this time pillowed his head to Bucky’s chest.

"Is this a dream?" Sam asked softly, slightly more willing to ask impossible questions in the semi dark privacy of bedtime. Bucky’s hand stroked the back of his head, down his neck and wrapped around him.

"If it is, then we’ll stay here, asleep together," Bucky murmured, fidgeting until he got comfortable and Sam could settle into his side. "You really worry about that?"

"It’s on the list," Sam admitted, kissing Bucky’s chest and wrapping a stray bit of Bucky’s hair around his finger. "But it comes in under worrying about whatever Eastman’s up to, Drax’s obsession with _The Masked Singer_, and Peter’s grade point average."

"We’ll take care of all that together too," Bucky said, and that was the last Sam heard before he fell hard into a good night’s sleep.

#

"Hey, Sam, could we talk for a minute?"

That kid moved like one of the other ghosts in the house, and Sam only barely managed to keep from jerking himself right off the ladder in surprise. His heart raced as he twisted his head around and propped his hip up against the wall to stabilize himself. On the floor, Peter had clearly twisted himself up something fierce before he’d tracked Sam down.

"I was wondering," Peter scratched the side of his neck, his blush trailed down with his fingers. He'd started talking without actually giving Sam a chance to say anything. "I mean, I know sometimes I irritate you, but I really think I could stop doing those things and we could, y'know, kind of just exist. Together. Sometimes."

"Spit it out, Peter," Sam said, turning to continue to fight his losing battle with the dusty curtains in the library. He was determined to put something brighter and made this century over the windows if it killed him. He pulled one side loose and draped it over the top of the ladder he'd used before he climbed down.

"Well it's just," Peter started pacing the long side of the couch. The floor was layered in rugs and occasionally one would stick to the bottom of Peter's bare foot making him trip, hop, and scrape it off before starting all over again. "I mean, this is a really good location. It's close to the place I'm gonna go to do the applied science in the curriculum Pepper set up for me, and like Empire University is right over there, if they'll still let me in. Because that's where Ned and MJ are going."

"Of course-"

Peter jumped, continuing his pacing up the wall. "Sure, I'm not a wanted criminal anymore, but my name is still out there," he said, pulling at his hair as he climbed with apparently no effort at all. Sam scowled thinking about little aches and pains he felt after flying these days. "And it won't be safe to find a new place with May. And I think she wants to move in with Happy now which is weird and I don't know how I feel about it because Happy is a good dude sure, but this is a big deal. I don't want to hold her back, but I don't want. . . I mean, I'm not ready to be on my own yet."

"Are you?" Sam did the mental gymnastics to try to follow Peter's stumbling ramble. He hadn’t thought there’d been any question of Peter staying with them, not when he came back from that first visit with May and started layering his room with posters. "If you're asking if you can stay with us, of course you can. I know we're not your family, but we're your friends. You can always count on us."

"So you’re not trying to move out?" Peter asked in a rush as he back flipped off the wall, landing in the knee breaking superhero pose. "Because I really thought you and Bucky were about to hit it off."

"I - What?" Sam asked, then scowled when he realized the curtains had crept back onto the rods while he'd been distracted talking to Peter. He was not about to let a damp house get one over on him. "I’m not leaving you or Bucky."

"Great, greatness. It’s just I saw you circling places for rent in the paper and I panicked," Peter said, enthusiastically taking the ladder when Sam reached for it, trying to set it back up somewhere useful and only managing to knock several books off the shelf. 

Dust bunnies fell with all the silent grace of snowflakes as Peter ruffled the curtains, desperately trying to hold the ladder and pick up the books at the same time. Sam pinched his nose to stifle a sneeze. "I was looking for all of us," he said, though he’d struck out magnificently again. Nowhere was big enough for all of them, and he couldn’t find any side by side rentals. "You don’t really want to stay here do you? Bats, ghosts, that disturbing artwork Mantis put up in the fourth floor landing?"

Abandoning the books so he could try to brush the bunnies from Sam’s shoulders and head, Peter answered, "Well, yeah. I don’t know who needs to hear this, but-"

Sam looked around, wondering if he was the crazy one here.

"-sometimes a family is kid from Brooklyn, his two adopted dads, a Norse god, a pro wrestler reject, a bug lady and their friends."

Tears sprung to the edge of his eyes that had nothing to do with the dust or Peter pulling his hair, and Sam didn't mind one bit. He pulled Peter into another rough hug, letting the ladder fall to the floor. "So you're saying you're going to stop interrupting me and Bucky?" he teased, wiping his eyes before he pulled away and saw Peter's also misty eyes. "Since you adopted us and all?"

"I shouldn't have- I was just worried that if you two were together you wouldn't have time for me," Peter said, hands still full of Sam's sweater. He looked everywhere except at Sam's face, but the conflicting emotions were clear to read. "It was pretty selfish of me, I see that now that I'm more mature."

More mature than a month ago, Sam smiled to himself. Teenagers were the best. "All right, now that we've got that cleared up, leave me alone so I can defeat these curtains," he said, patting Peter on the shoulder and the cheek.

"Since we cleared the air and all, can I have some friends over this weekend?"

Sam picked up the ladder, pulling it back and setting it up closer to the window's edge where he needed it. "No drinking, no webs, everyone gets permission to attend, and you give their parents Karen's phone number so she can relay messages. You're cleaning anything anyone messes up and Bucky and I reserve the right to hide in his panic room if any of you start anything with Drax," he offered, trying not to think of the potential for utter disaster while he climbed up again. Peter deserved the fun.

Grabbing the curtains Sam somehow got them tangled so he could finally see the interior and was stunned to see it was lined with a beautiful metallic copper color. He banged his elbow on something and discovered there were falcon shaped curtain holders just waiting to let him twist the material back to let in more light and show off the non dirt-encrusted side of the material. He rolled his eyes, wondering why he even bothered. 

Pumping his fist in the air, Peter celebrated, "Yes! This is going to be the most epic senior party ever." 

He took a deep breath and only hoped the house was also up to taking care of a bunch of hyper seventeen year olds as much as it did its curtains.

#

Sam took a bite of his sandwich and watched while Doctor Strange wandered out of the hallway closet, looked up, glared at Sam and then turned around to enter the closet again. Strange then walked out of the third floor bathroom, glanced over the banister, and turned around again. Finally, Strange emerged from the new sunroom on the first floor and gave up, shutting his book with a dusty thump.

"Sam Wilson. Things seem to be going well here?" Strange asked in that way that intoned he already knew the answer. 

Smug asshole. Sam really disliked telepaths. He took another bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly, watching as the wizard grew visibly impatient. "So far so good," he said, though he winced when the screaming started as he finished.

Smirking, Strange crossed his arms, but Sam only shrugged. "Tuesday is primal rage therapy day," he said, counting to three before Thor and Drax joined in. They liked to give the ghosts first chance to set the octaves. There were two of them who started out screaming at each other, but when Drax realized there was only one chair they moved a new one in and now the ghosts screamed with each other. "Peter had wanted to try to auto tune them for youtube, but Thor said that would be insensitive. Thor's been taking classes on holistic wellness. It's really pretty relaxing if you want to go give it a try."

"I believe I will pass. These classes are from an accredited university?" Strange asked, floating silently as he followed Sam into the library.

"Naw, their group meets a couple of times a week near the dumpsters behind the exotic fish store," Sam said, catching Bucky's eyes for a moment. The library was much brighter with the open curtains and it muffled most of the screaming. "Then they collectively decide on a project or therapy to work on. Last time it was tuning forks."

"And Peter?" Strange asked, glancing over the gilded titles of the books.

"He's finishing high school with distance learning. Empire University agreed to accept him under an alias if he agrees to alter his appearance enough for plausible deniability," Bucky said, putting his crossword down on the coffee table. "May visits here, Peter visits there. MJ and Mantis have formed a very strange friendship, but they only accidentally put us all to sleep a couple of times, and the nightmares only happened for a little bit."

"I see, and the two of you?" Strange asked, wiping away some of the dust from the shelf on his fingers. He paused and then tried to casually wipe it away on the material of one of the high backed chairs Peter used when he pretended to host his fireside chats.

Sam crossed over and leaned against the couch near Bucky's shoulder, letting Bucky slip his hand into Sam's back pocket. "Yeah, we're doing all right," he answered. They were doing much better than that, but he didn't want to jinx anything.

"I'd be doing better if Mark Twain didn't keep giving me the wrongest right sounding answers for my crossword," Bucky muttered, holding up the paper so Sam could see where he had to mark out several answers to write the correct letters much smaller.

"Serves you right, listening to a dead old white dude," Sam said, pushing some of Bucky's hair behind his ear.

Strange laughed softly, letting his feet fall to the floor with a thump. "Sam Wilson, I wouldn't have believed you had it in you to make this place a home," he said, twisting his hands in front of his chest in a complicated pattern. The orange symbols glowed for a moment at then faded. "Congratulations, you have won the house's allegiance."

"It was a group effort," Sam said, chest puffing up as he thought of the work they'd all put in to make cohabitation a working solution.

"But mostly it was me," Bucky said, sly grin inviting Sam over the couch where they rolled to the floor each trying to gain the upper hand.

"Children," Strange scoffed, zipping back into the air and through a portal.

**Author's Note:**

>   
_Unimpressed, Sam took a deep breath, but quickly shut his mouth with a clack of his teeth when a shadow crept out from underneath Peter's bed. He couldn't have said he would have noticed it if they hadn't been waiting for it. There was a slight ripple, his eyes itched watching it, and then each sock was slowly pulled under the bed, one by one, lost to darkness. _
> 
>   
_Bucky face planted right in Sam's belly, forcing a small grunt from Sam as he took off his reading glasses and set them and his book on the nightstand. _


End file.
